


in the name of the shield

by seaofolives



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Amicitia Family (Final Fantasy XV), Bisexual Gladiolus Amicitia, Canon Compliant, Canon Era, Canon Universe, Clarus Amicitia Being An Asshole, Developing Relationship, Fictional Religion & Theology, Gen, Gladiolus Amicitia Whump, Hurt Gladiolus Amicitia, Hurt Noctis Lucis Caelum, M/M, Minor Original Character(s), POV Gladiolus Amicitia, Past Gladiolus Amicitia/Ignis Scientia, Past Relationship(s), Physical Abuse, Pre-Canon, Protective Gladiolus Amicitia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:34:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 36,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23394094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seaofolives/pseuds/seaofolives
Summary: Ever since he was young, Gladio knew he wanted the same respect his father gained among his colleagues, the same worth to be bestowed with the wings on his back. To receive them, he knew he had to step up and own them—join the Crownsguard, train as the Shield, surpass all others and oneself. A competition of one. Ever since then, his days had been nothing but uphill battles and hard-fought victories.
Relationships: Gladiolus Amicitia & Ignis Scientia, Gladiolus Amicitia/Ignis Scientia
Comments: 12
Kudos: 35





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> me: /under isolation  
> my wips: :o  
> my wips: :>
> 
> anyway, some notes:  
> 1\. blanket warning for fast-tracked healing bc ~potions~  
> 2\. exercised some creative license on eos' mythology and gladio's family history, too :B  
> 3\. also i never managed to decide when this fic is set so it's give or take 1 or 2 years before game canon lol  
> 4\. btw i played the game with the jp voice for which there's no version of things like 'gladdy' or 'iggy' or 'specs' so that's why usage of those nicknames are very minimal here bc i never got used to them >.>;;  
> 5\. updated dec 2020! improved grammar and reading flow and finally chopped this up into 5 chapters for ease of reading

As soon as heʼd heard the familiar rumblings of the car driving along the dirt road, Gladio gave up his sad sliver of peace with a snarl. 

He opened his eyes, and glared through the manicured greenery that obscured the crown princeʼs sleek black car as it wound its way into the garden, one of the many hidden behind skyscrapers or sleepy neighborhoods that no one bothers to visit. Normally, being in such pockets of nature would have been enough to put him in a good mood—they certainly beat the cityʼs crowd for one, or the boxed spaces of the Citadelʼs grandest training rooms which smelled mostly of polish or essential oils, depending on the day of the week. But the key term here was ‘ _normally_ ʼ. 

Meaning that even the great outdoors, tamed by the Wall though it was, had failed him. And no amount of time spent in it, to warm up amongst its boon or meditate with the chirrups of the birds (as had tried), could repair the damage already done. Then again, it was clear to him who was at fault here. And that was the worst part of it all. 

Before the front tires appeared from behind the leaves, he finally got up off the earth, dusting his trainers so he could stand almost of equal height to his wooden glaive, stuck to the earth like some tombstone. Probably his, he thought. The car stopped as soon as it came into full view. 

When the driverʼs door cracked open, he could hardly believe how his heart jumped. Which only caused him to frown deeper—he wasnʼt supposed to let it affect him anymore. But that certainly didnʼt explain why he still tensed up when he heard that familiar voice, always so calm and even, call his charge by the name reserved only to them: “Noct.”

That polished shoe touched down to the dirt, that styled hair peeked through the opening. What the hell was he doing, watching these movements so closely like some damn wildlife? He averted his gaze, glaring at the ground, instead. But realized soon enough that that probably made him look stupider. 

The best thing to do then was to brave this out, relax his muscles. He crossed his arms, putting his weight on his right leg. That shoe disappeared again and he heard a more persistent version of, “ _Noct._ ” After some commotion, the likes of which he could probably guess, the doors finally swung open, both passengers stepping out. 

“Ignis.” Noctis was still rubbing his eyes while he loitered near the backseat, dressed down from his high school uniform, that blazer replaced by a black pullover hoodie. “Did you get my—”

“I put the glaive and the shield right here at the back,” Ignis replied, already lifting the wooden replicas out of the trunk. Gladio almost laughed. Spoken like a true crown prince, and as expected of his caretaker to think things through for him. He might have helped. Might have. Except… “I also packed you some food for when you get hungry. I left it in the passengerʼs seat.”

“Oh, thanks.” Noctis nudged the door shut, going round the front of his car to pick up his food. “…just for me or…” He looked up, then, and finally noticed Gladio watching. 

Talk about being exposed. Gladio felt flustered. He cleared his throat, redirected his attention. 

Ignis was watching him in turn, back straight. The slightest frowns riding on his brows and his lips. Not a face he was used to. Not a face heʼd _like_ to get used to, but there it is. Guilt personified. 

He looked away, tapping his foot. He got that message loud and clear. 

“I neglected to check the time and ran out before I could create a second set,” Ignis eventually explained. 

“That doesnʼt sound like you at all, Ignis.” Gladio wouldnʼt admit it but he had to agree with Noctis. 

“In any case, it should be enough to suffice you until your dinner with His Majesty,” Ignis went on without missing a beat, pushing the boot shut before he handed sword and shield to Noctis. “Iʼll come back to pick you up at 5. Try not to get too beaten up.”

“Tell that to the other guy,” Noctis replied in kind. He didnʼt wait for Ignis to leave before he started for his trainer, the patterned bag with his food hanging around his sword wrist. 

Gladio shifted his weight to the other foot, watching his pupil approach. “Not even a ‘heyʼ?”

“Thought weʼre way past formalities?” Noctis stopped next to him, striking the sword into the earth like his tutor. He looked back to his car, and Gladio, of course, followed him. 

Ignis stood by the driverʼs seat, door open, facing their way, as well. Their eyes met. Not quite so briefly. 

It ended when Ignis looked away, brows pinched softly in discomfort. That look, he knew well, too. And what it meant. Without another word, Ignis disappeared behind the door, then drove off. 

Gladio tried to shake it off, putting a hand round his wooden swordʼs grip. “Donʼt think Iʼll go easy on you just because youʼre meeting His Majesty. Thatʼs on you.”

“I know, I know,” Noctis sang—his usual retort. He set down the shield to lean next to his sword, freeing his hand to slip off the bag strings around his wrist. “You mind if I get a little bite to eat first, though?”

“You’re only delaying the inevitable,” Gladio laughed. 

“Canʼt fight on an empty stomach,” Noctis reasoned. He glanced at Gladio. “Learned that from you,” he reminded him. By then, he had already slipped free the expensive black lacquer box from the fabric, cracked the lid open. 

Ignisʼ signature could be seen laying within—in neat rows of rice balls covered in seeds, folded scrambled eggs wrapped in seaweed and then some steamed sausages, cut up to look like flowers or scored bread loaves. The technique and the attention to detail were unmistakable, but it was hard to believe, still, that heʼd run out of time with just this one box. 

“Gladio,” Noctis turned to him, and he realized then that he was probably less hungry and more curious about what was happening behind the curtains. “What the hell happened between you and Ignis?”

Gladio took a deep breath, and let out a slow sigh. “That obvious, huh?”

Noctis shrugged. “I mean, you already have a new girlfriend.”

Gladio found himself running his hand through the back of his hair, down to its tail. “You know, the girlfriend thing was kind of supposed to be a secret.” Because it was awkward flaunting it around after the last relationship. He tossed the same hand to Noctis welcoming himself to a piece of sausage. “Unless he told you?”

“Kinda. He slipped, thatʼs how I found out. Before that, though, about you two…” Noctis shook his head. “Guess Iʼve always just suspected.”

“Gimme a break.”

“Give me some credit,” Noctis snorted, side-eying him. “We were practically raised together, I know what heʼs saying even when heʼs not saying anything.”

Gladio shifted on his feet again, bringing his arms back around his chest. 

Noctis noted his cue and started with another shrug, picking up the egg next. “He came by one evening, just as I was about to leave. One of the upperclassmen was celebrating his birthday and Prompto and I were invited to his karaoke party.” He popped in the egg. Watching him eat, Gladio realized he was getting hungry himself. If only Ignis had just slipped in some vegetables there, he might find himself at the receiving end of it. But of course he wouldnʼt, he knew what he was doing. “I wasnʼt expecting Ignis to drop by. When I told him where I was going, he said heʼd just set the place right while I wasnʼt around to disturb him. I didnʼt think it was strange at that time, but…” He shook his head. “I dunno, I thought he looked really upset. Like he was about to snap and cry. Which,” a hand tossed to Gladio, “you know…heʼs Ignis, that almost never happens.”

“You sure?” Gladioʼs brows came together. 

“Mind, I was already at the door when I thought I saw that,” Noctis went on, popping a brow at Gladio. He came for one of the rice balls. “He was in the kitchen, doing the dishes. I didnʼt want to embarrass him so I just left. Thought it was nothing, but then,” he chewed through half the rice ball, “he started spending less time with you.”

“Because he started spending more time nagging you again.”

“And itʼs been going on for a month,” Noctis finished his story. 

Gladio shook his head, betraying just the slightest note of his amusement on his face. “You really put your mind on the weirdest things.” He gestured to the sword next to him. “Wouldnʼt mind it if you put the same mind on your own training.”

“Heard that already,” Noctis replied with his casual air of nonchalance, sealing the lacquer box. When he noticed Gladio waiting for him to explain, he looked back to him and answered simply, “Ignis wouldnʼt get off my back again, remember? Think it got worse after you two…”

Gladio dropped his eyes to his shoes. 

“So?” Noctis braced his hand on his side, shifting his weight to it. 

Cornered, there was little else he could do but to toss a little shrug. “Yeah,” he finally admitted. “Ignis and I broke up a month ago.”

—

It was the worst night of his life.

Which was quite the overreaction, he was sure, but that was exactly how it felt to him that evening. A great shame about it, too—for whatever reason, heʼd booked them a table at the rooftop of a restaurant about 30-stories above ground, in one of the Crown Cityʼs more lucrative districts. Not something he normally did but with enough connections to the royal family, some habits just stick with you. He thought it was a good idea at that time—heʼd seen the note of approval on Ignisʼ face as they were led to their seats from the elevator with glass walls. 

Now he was sitting alone, a glass of wine his only company, while Ignis peered over the waist-high fence down to the traffic 30 floors below, hands braced over the railing. Between the two of them, Ignis had always been the one who saw sense. That didnʼt make Gladio any less nervous, though. 

“Hey,” he called to him, drumming his fingers to some jittery rhythm on the tabletop. “Ignis, cʼmon. Can you come back here so we can talk?”

That cough of laughter was a little bit unexpected. From the lights shining upwards from the floor, illuminating his face, Gladio could see that Ignis looked bemused with a smirk on his face. “What else is there to talk about? I heard you loud and clear.”

For whatever it was worth, he did come back to the table as he continued, “We ought to spend less time with each other and reprioritize. We have a duty to the Crown that must always take precedence in all of our actions and decisions.”

“Thatʼs not what I said,” Gladio exhaled, looking away. 

“That _is_ what you said,” Ignis countered with his tempered voice, fixing himself on his seat across Gladio, his own glass of wine unattended. “I just used different words,” he went on. “And you canʼt look at me. I know that habit too well.”

“Gods dammit, do you always have to analyze everything?” Gladio almost snarled, though he couldnʼt bring himself to glare at Ignis who looked at him unflinchingly. He threw up his hands, giving up because this wasnʼt the fight he wanted. No, in fact he didnʼt want to fight, damn it. “Fine, thatʼs exactly what I said!”

“Very well, then, I agree.”

“So act like it, dammit!” Gladio hissed, shifted in his seat so he could edge closer to Ignis who sat almost motionless except for the furrowing of his brows. “You know itʼs the right thing to do.” Was he begging? “And I thought you would understand this of all people but…” He frowned, his own brows digging deeply. Shook his head. “But thatʼs not whatʼs happening, is it?”

It wasnʼt. Ignisʼ eyes falling to the candlelit centerpiece between them made it clear enough. A hand flew to trace the slender neck of his wine glass with a finger. “Before I agreed to be in this relationship, I thought about my decision,” he began. Gladio hadnʼt expected to hear his answer but he was glad for it. “Noct must always be my priority, and if our time together was going to get in the way of that, I knew I would have to step up and put an end to it if I must.”

Gladio tried to smile but could only manage a flicker. That wasnʼt…the answer he hoped for…the sentiment was there but…dammit, he didnʼt want to stop seeing Ignis. 

“But,” Ignisʼ face wrinkled, “I…liked this relationship.” He finally raised his eyes to Gladio who took them in. “Itʼs…a change. From what Iʼm used to.” He shook his head. “I donʼt want it to end, Gladio.”

“Thatʼs not what Iʼm saying.” Gladio spoke hurriedly, now tapping a different, silent rhythm with his fists while he moved his gaze to Ignisʼ fingers. “We donʼt have to end what we have.”

“But you want us to spend less time together.” There he was, again. “How is that any different, Gladio?”

“Less time doesnʼt mean no time. We have a duty to the Crown!”

“And I have known that since the day I was born!” Ignis snapped back, staring almost incredulously at him. Gladio fought the urge to turn away. “Since the day the king invited me for a private audience in the throne room when Noct and I were mere boys, I have known that. Youʼre not the only one bloodbound to duty, so am I!” He jabbed himself in the chest. “But that shouldnʼt mean we can no longer live our lives, Gladio.” Did it? 

He lost the fight, then, and looked off elsewhere, frowning bitterly. 

“If it did, then you and I shouldnʼt be here. And our own parents…” He trailed off. 

Gladio turned to his fists, unfurled them so he could look at his fingers. If Ignis chose to leave then, he would have been unable to stop him. Out of shame? Or the weakness to face the fact that tonight, he and Ignis might…could…

“Gladio.”

And he couldnʼt do anything about it. No matter how much he wanted to. Wished he could. 

“Our parents were the lucky ones,” Gladio said suddenly, smiling slightly, eyes still averted. “Theirs is not the Chosen King.”

“Gladio, look at me.”

“You and I arenʼt the same with them,” Gladio went on in the same pace, shaking his head. “Iʼm not saying I wish I wasnʼt given to Noct but you gotta admit, sometimes the pressure gets to you.”

“Gladio, is this about Master Clarusʼ friendly match with Noct?”

He still wouldnʼt look at him. In the silence, Ignisʼ sigh came through in clear notes. Gladio smirked. “What made you think that?”

“Because you could barely talk to me the day it happened,” Ignis responded in his calm voice. “And itʼs like you said—you and I both know it wasnʼt as innocent as it looked. It was a test. The only question was, who was he testing? Noct? Or you?”

“Or both,” Gladio mumbled. 

“So thatʼs it, isnʼt it?”

When he finally did look up to him, Gladio felt flustered, a kid caught with his hand stuck in the cookie jar. But Ignis, for all his selfishness… 

He realized soon enough, after that night, that one of the things he would miss the most was the way he looked at him in complete silence and understanding, accepting without questioning. Being raised in a military household, an old family who came into power with thanks to that, he didnʼt get that very often. Sympathy was a rare currency among them. 

Ignis sighed again. He reached forward and clasped his fingers around Gladioʼs. He hated it. 

It felt like there was a fire gutting him when he pulled away and clenched his fists. It certainly was still there when Gladio turned away, shame-faced before his cowardice. The pause that followed almost felt like a void that suffocated him. 

“After all this time, Gladio,” Ignis snarled quietly. “Iʼd have thought that you and I could learn to stop hiding.”

“I donʼt—” Gladio felt overwhelmed. He clicked his tongue, sighed, hid his face behind his hands. Wondered what he was doing here in the first place, why he decided to ask Ignis to come out here in the first place. “I donʼt want to keep hiding as much as you do but…thereʼs just a lot of pressure on me right now!” 

Silence again… 

“Then perhaps we ought to take some time off.”

That was like a splash of Blizzara to his face. Gladioʼs hands fell so he could stare at Ignis pushing his seat back and rising. 

“I can see how much stress you are in right now and I would hate to add my weight to it.”

“Ignis, wait—”

“For what itʼs worth, youʼve enlightened me.” When Gladio tried to reach for him, Ignis sidestepped deftly to miss his hand. “Itʼs true what you say—we ought to spend less time with each other and readjust our priorities. If I didnʼt agree then, I do now wholeheartedly.”

“Ignis, thatʼs not—”

Without another word, Ignis turned heels and left. 

“Ignis, wait!” But he didnʼt. And Gladio, for his part, couldnʼt keep calling after him. What would the others say if they saw an Amicitia acting so recklessly and desperately? Pathetic. He couldnʼt soil his houseʼs, his fatherʼs name like that. 

“ _Shit_ ,” he hissed, rubbing his hands on his face again, snarling within its confines. It was the most he could do. 

That, and slamming his fist on the table, loudly enough for his and Ignisʼ wine to splatter onto the otherwise pristine table cloth. Eyes had turned for sure—and maybe they _would_ talk. So let them. 

In the end, at least he could say without guilt that he wasnʼt dating a man anymore.

—

With another roar, the entire weight of his swing and his blade landed on the wooden shield with a deafening crack that made Noctis jump and yelp while he braced against the blow.

“Hey, donʼt just hide behind the shield like some animal, raise it up high before you lose your head!” Gladio pulled his training glaive back, spinning it readily for another mean strike. 

“Yeah?” Noctis grunted, ducking behind his own weapon, coughing a little. “You ever try that while a 6-foot gorillaʼs whacking at you with a giant sword? _Shit—_ ” A pre-emptive flinch just before wood cut on wood again. 

Gladio hefted his sword onto his shoulder. “As if a gorillaʼs the worst of my nightmares. You on the other hand, have a lot of work cut out for you.”

“Give me a break, Iʼm new to this. And the shieldʼs too damn heavy!”

“Itʼll be heavier once itʼs made out of mythril and weʼve been at this for two weeks!” Gladio huffed, shaking his head. “You donʼt get to make excuses when your life is in the palm of your hands and all you have is a shield to protect you. This is the most important lesson Iʼm going to teach you!”

“Yeah?” Noctis peeked at him from behind his shield. “But youʼll be there to be my Shield anyway, right?” That caught him by surprise. 

For an embarrassing second there, Gladio felt speechless, the tips of his ears burning with a little warmth. Which was silly because this was just Noctis being Noctis, the lazy pampered prince who hated training except for when Gladio bribed him with fishing after. But now, those words suddenly shone with a new set of meanings for him. 

“Cocky little shit,” Gladio snorted, smirking. “Protecting youʼs no question—thatʼs my job as an Amicitia, after all. But that doesnʼt mean you canʼt learn a thing or two about protecting yourself, too!” A targeted jab with his blade at the center of the shield sent Noctis stumbling back with a yip, coming up to his full height just as Gladio had intended. 

“Between the two of you, the shield is your tool, not yourself,” he went on to remind his pupil, stalking after him even while he was still grasping for his balance. “You donʼt adjust to it, you wield it to work for you. Keep the bottom off the ground, your enemies are going to aim for your head 90% of the time than your toes.” Deftly, he slipped the tip of his blade in the gap between shield and dirt to knock Noctisʼ weapon upwards. “Give your feet some room to move so you donʼt trip over your shield. Thatʼll protect you from hurting yourself, too.”

“And how the hell am I supposed to do that if the shieldʼs too heavy?” Noctis snarled, bracing himself again, feet apart, shield lifted a few inches higher than his shoulders. 

Gladio stopped briefly to carry his blade up for a swing. “You eat your vegetables.” That was the only warning he gave before he flung down his sword for a mighty smash. That one, Noctis managed to block with some dignity. 

The ones that followed proved less and less effective, each one of them breaking through Noctisʼ planted stance until he was marching back in a bid to regain his space. 

“Mind your shield- and your footwork, youʼre losing them again!” Gladio warned him, giving a steady chase—an easy feat with a longer pair of legs. “If you canʼt master this, youʼll never learn how to wield shield and sword at once!” He swung for a mean cut. 

That was the last straw that broke Noctisʼ defense, sending the prince down on the dirt on his ass, the shield smacking him on the chest. He started to cough. 

Gladio sighed, resting his glaive over his shoulder again. “Well, that went better than I…” He trailed off, then; Noctis had turned to his side, still whooping for all he was worth, a free hand smacking his own chest. “Hey,” Gladio frowned, getting concerned. “You okay?” Had he overdone it? 

When he reached for Noctis, the man only gave him air, phasing through his fingers in a blur of blue light as he rolled to his knees, leaving his shield where he once laid. He still looked a little pale and breathless though heʼd calmed down by now, clearing his throat and hitting his palm on his chest. Like there was something clogging inside it. 

Gladio stood his sword in the dirt, and crossed his arms. “Ignis know about this?”

“Iʼm _fine_ ,” Noctis snapped, getting back up on his feet. “I donʼt need him mothering over me at this, too.” 

“Donʼt underestimate flu season, Noct.”

“Itʼs just allergies,” Noctis coughed, squaring his shoulders even though he was sulking. “Iʼll be fine.”

Well, this wasnʼt Gladioʼs job. Just another part of his and Noctisʼ bro code—after all, this wouldnʼt be the first secret he would be keeping for the prince, and he was no snitch. By now, he knew where Noctis was coming from—having dated Ignis for more than a year, he had a taste of the manʼs capacity to nag and had often shared his own frustrations with Noctis who delighted upon gaining an ally. 

He exhaled quietly, and waved him over. “Cʼmere,” he grunted. He didnʼt wait for Noctis to acquiesce (knowing him, he would waste a few more seconds to dilly-dally before he followed) when he turned to the fat backpack heʼd brought over and left by an old tree, not far from where heʼd sat to meditate earlier. From a side pocket, he pulled a tall vacuum flask and unfastened the steel mug attached to one of the straps. 

After washing it briefly with the hot tea heʼd brought along, he filled it up again and offered it to Noctis. “Peppermint with a dash of lavender and a spoon of honey. Should make you feel better.”

“Oh, thanks,” Noctis said, with what sounded like a half-gasp of delighted surprise as he received the warm drink with two hands. He took a moment to enjoy the steam and the fragrance while he and Gladio found their places on the dirt, sitting cross-legged. After the first sip, he gave the tea an approving sound. “Donʼt think Iʼll ever be a tea person but this is the stuff. I didnʼt realize youʼd be one.” He turned to Gladio. 

“‘cause I could drink you under the table and I got better taste on alcohol?” Gladio smirked. Noctis rolled his eyes. “Themʼs good stuff but,” he patted his hard stomach, “it’s important to take care of your body and be of sound health, too. Teaʼs a great way to flush out the toxins.”

“So you could add more?”

“Being of sound health also includes treating yourself.”

“Sure,” Noctis snorted. He raised his mug for a little toast. “Thanks, Gladio.”

“Iʼll bring some leaves next training,” Gladio replied, nodding along Noctisʼ gratitude and raising his own flask. “You can get Ignis to brew it for you.”

“Ignisʼll sniff me out like a daemon if I do that.”

“Then Iʼll put them in tea bags so you can just steep them on your own,” Gladio suggested, watching Noctis agree to the idea with little nods while he drank carefully still. Really, if he wasnʼt being a little shit, they could really get along. “Got any plans tomorrow?”

In an instant, Noctis became guarded, looking warily at his instructor. “Why?” was his stoic question. 

Gladio snorted, chuckling at his reaction. “You look like a damn rabbit, Noct.” He reached for his hair but was dissuaded with a swift, sharp slap on his forearm. “If you donʼt have any plans tomorrow, it might be a good idea to rest up. Was hoping we could continue with our exercises in the afternoon but you look like you could use a break.”

“Huh?” Noctis whirled at him, eyes round. “Really?”

“Itʼs fine, itʼs just a day missed.” Gladio nodded with a little wink. “But I better not catch you wasting your day in the arcade with Prompto!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Noctis brushed off his warning, finishing his tea. “Stop treating me like a kid, we donʼt even go to that arcade, anymore.” He held out the mug to Gladio, asking for seconds. 

“Oh, so what are you two haunting now? Hostess clubs?” Gladio poured from the flask again. 

“Hey, donʼt put us in the same category as you, Gladio. Give us a bit more class—” Noctis had almost spilled his tea when he ducked away from Gladioʼs grabbing hand again. “Hey, stop that! Lay off my hair, man!!”

“If you donʼt learn to swing your shield in a weekʼs time, Iʼm going to enlist the entire Crownsguard to touch your hair. That ought to teach you!”

“Donʼt you dare!”

“Donʼt try me,” Gladio rebutted, pouring more tea for the scowling man. “Now finish up. Itʼs almost 5 oʼclock, you wouldnʼt want Ignis to catch you drinking tea like an old man.”

“Like you, you mean?” Noctis snapped back. He smacked Gladioʼs hand a third time and bared his teeth at the laughing man. “Stop that!!”

—

A day missed was a day wasted.

Growing up under his fatherʼs iron arm, Gladio had lived long enough to accept, scorn and finally be indifferent to such words of wisdom. As the future Shield of the King, he was given not only the best but the most _exclusive_ of the best opportunities a wealthy patriarch could offer his eldest, and one and only heir. He was enrolled in the same private all-boys school as his father was, had his own dedicated tutors to extend his education and had the fiercest member of the Crownsguard as his training instructor: Cor the Immortal. 

It was a hard life, for all his advantages and the benefits he gained from it. If only they werenʼt teacher and student, Gladio always thought he and Noctis could get on with how similar both of them were—except for one huge difference, of course: Noctis was the coddled Prince of Lucis who was gifted, by virtue of his birthright, with an army of people to fall back on. And Gladio? Well…he _was_ the fallback. 

“The bond that a King and his Shield share must go beyond that of an employer and his bodyguard,” his father Clarus once advised him in some rare occasion where they could talk in peace in the garden. “The Shield must not only protect the King with his life, he must be prepared to carry his burden with him, and for him if he must. If the future king Prince Noctis cannot focus, you must be the one to focus for him. If he cannot run, you must carry him on your shoulders and run for him, protecting him at all times. What your liege cannot do, you must be able to accomplish with full efforts.”

He could still remember the way his father rose, fist on his heart as he declaimed to the sun, “We Amicitia have always taken pride for the honor to be the Sworn Shields of the Crown. As I am now to His Majesty King Regis, so must you be to His Highness Prince Noctis. Protect him always, not only out of duty to the royalty but as like your brother, your milk kin.” 

_Filial piety_ had always been Clarusʼ favorite sport to play. _Protect_ , _honor_ , _duty_ , _crown_ , all of them were his fatherʼs favorite words. Whenever he asked after Gladioʼs education, his progress in training, his well-being, Gladio always felt it was a way for him to measure his son up to the job luck had signed him up for. He never asked about this boy he had a crush on at school, or his first girlfriend, his hobbies and interests, his frustrations and dislikes, his failures…gods forbid he learned about them. 

For all of that, he had his younger sister Iris, and even Cor Leonis, his mentor and second father. And until lately, Ignis Scientia, who had been his friend, lover, and confidant. If it hadnʼt been for them, Gladio thought he might have abandoned his life in Insomnia and hidden away in one of those outposts out there. Probably dead after a daemon attack by now.

—

Lightning strikes of rubber hitting rubber filled the space of the Amicitiaʼs combat room. A day missed was a day wasted and while Gladio was determined to protect his prince from the poison of those words, the same damage was already done to him and made irreparable by no other than his father himself. As a teen, spending time away from his studies and his training used to fill him with such guilt, almost to the point of self-destruction. But it was Cor Leonisʼ words that came to his much-needed rescue: a day missed did not have to be a day wasted if he spent it doing other productive things that would improve his academics and his performance.

So that was what he was doing—after a fashion. With his afternoon and evening made free, Gladio found the rare opportunity to check in on another one of his students, much to her endless delight. Being the youngest member of the Amicitia family and a woman at that, Iris had never been branded with the same expectations as her brother Gladio was. But bolstered by her last name and her closeness to her only sibling, she was only too happy to take part in the family tradition of the martial arts. 

“One, two, cʼmon!” Gladio barked steady instructions as he clapped his punch mitts and raised them again to catch Irisʼ paws. “Faster, you can do better than that!” Over and over, moving backwards and sideways, taking his sister on a tour around the empty space. “Right foot, Iris, move with your right first!”

“Gladdy, youʼre moving too fast for me. Hold still!”

“Ha! Thatʼs rich.” Normally a note of sarcasm had it been said in response to Noctis but for his sister, his amusement was purer. He loved his sister; ever since they lost their mother in a car accident, he and Iris had been each otherʼs shoulder to cry and lean on. Gladio took it upon himself to raise her to the best that he could and she, in turn, took care of him. She cooked for him, mended his wounds, gave him comfort when no one in the house would listen to him. A rare warmth in an otherwise uptight home. 

“Thatʼs it, now youʼre giving it!” Gladio maintained his position while a determined Iris threw her bound fists to the sturdy cushions. “Good aim, keep it up. Howʼs about a little legwork there, huh?” He moved suddenly to sweep at Irisʼ ankle with his calf. 

Iris missed it with a timely jump that boosted her for a proper spinning kick with a power cry. Gladio had to step back for some space when her heel connected to his right mitt. He whistled, waving his hand briefly. “Whereʼd you learn that?” Both mitts came up again. 

Iris smirked, bouncing on the balls of her feet, fists still raring. Her short hair was matted with oil and sweat and her Crownsguard singlet soaked from the exercise. She was breathing hard but the fire in her eyes was unmistakable. 

“I learned it from an online video, of course!”

“Hey, I thought I told you to stop that?” Gladio caught two punches and another kick. “Those videos donʼt teach you the proper form and breathing techniques so you donʼt harm yourself!”

Count on Iris to break her fighting stance just so she could raise her right foot at the back and wear a peace sign over her wink. “Juuust kidding! Cʼmon, Gladdy, as if I could ever forget something you taught!”

“Oh yeah?” After another clap, Gladio raised his right mitt higher. “You remember what I said about kicking higher?” Iris whirled and attacked it with a proper kick. “Right, good. How about this?” The next one was higher still, so that Iris had to spin and jump just to reach it. “Not bad!” 

“Watch out, Gladdy,” Iris giggled, swaying a little on her spot where she was supposed to be bouncing for the next kick. “I could take your place as the Shield of the King!”

“Ha!” Gladio cackled. “So you could come and save Prince Noctis when an evil daemon kidnaps him and seals him away in a dark castle?”

“Gladdy!!”

Her flustered state caused Gladio to laugh louder. Though he could never imagine the union, he always enjoyed teasing his sister with her little girlhood crush on his pupil and liege. 

“Rousing him from a deep slumber is going to take an entirely different training which you,” he pointed to her with his mitt, “are still too young for. So before that,” he raised the glove just over his shoulder, “you get this training first. Think you can reach this?”

Iris pressed her lips tight, folding herself lower to prep herself for the high jump she was going to make. She eyed the rubber palm like a hawk. 

With another cry, she flew and swung her leg. Gladio had already set himself to step back upon contact but Irisʼ foot had barely touched his glove before she was already falling to the mat. 

She landed with a squeak and a hiss, grimacing while she rolled to her side to rub her back. 

Gladio winced. “Okay,” he conceded, crouching near his pouting sister, “maybe that was too high—ow!” Irisʼ revenging kick to the meat of his arm came as a surprise; heʼd blocked it in time with his forearm but she knew how to make something sting. What else could he expect from an Amicitia? 

He collapsed next to his sister, just to make her feel smug about it. For a time, all they did was to catch their breaths and grin at each other. 

“Good work,” he told her, pulling off his mitts, throwing each one of them to the other end of the mat so he could pull off his soaked Crownsguard shirt next. “Just a little more push and you could beat up the prince.”

“Gladdyʼs always mean to Noct,” Iris sulked. Gladio tossed his tank top aside, exposing his ribs for his little sister to pierce with two fingers. 

“Ow—!” Gladio had jumped and almost curled over, a swift hand protecting his side. Sheʼd nailed him a bit too hard on his ticklish part. If he could beam with fangs bared at the young lady, he would have done that. “Why you—!”

“Stop being mean to Noct!” Iris laughed while she pulled up her knees to protect her tummy from her brotherʼs own ticklish barrage. “Iʼm sure heʼs doing his best to balance all his princely duties and his lessons!”

“Yeah? He texted you that?”

“Gladdy!”

Gladio chuckled at Irisʼ burning face. “You know what, though? Youʼre right—he _is_ trying.” 

Iris was in rapt attention in an instant. “Really?” And the delight was unmistakable in her voice. Which was exactly why heʼd said what heʼd said. 

Gladio nodded. “Heʼs a fast learner.” If he put his mind to it. “He just needs a little more meat in those arms to carry heavier weapons.” Like a shield and a glaive, for instance. Noctis was fast and moved fast, and he supposed for a prince who shouldnʼt be put in the frontline of a battlefield, that was more than he could ask for. But… 

“But not everyoneʼs built like you, Gladdy.”

But he was the Chosen King. And he had to keep pushing him. His father… 

That…that was what his father would do. Would want him to do. 

“Doesnʼt mean he should stop trying.” Gladio shrugged. “You seen Ignis with a spear?” Iris nodded. “When Ignis started, he could barely keep one upright but now heʼs flying all over the place with it.” Noctisʼ performance with the spear wasnʼt bad either, Gladio thought. With his built, he was better suited with the broadsword and a pair of daggers, of course, but Gladio had lost a couple of matches against him and a spear which was why they were now struggling with a shield. So maybe Iris was right—maybe he was just being too mean to Noct… 

“Speaking of practice, howʼs your play coming along?”

“Mm, I think I finally got the hang of the song and the school piano,” Iris shared cheerfully. “Oh also, weʼre going to start practicing everyday after classes so Iʼll be home a bit later than usual.”

“Jared know about this?”

Iris nodded. 

“All right.” Gladio reached out to muss her hair. This one, at least, giggled without threatening to exile him from the kingdom. “Work hard and make your brother proud. Canʼt wait to see you rock that stage.”

“Really?!” she gasped. Stars sparkled in Irisʼ eyes when she whirled to beam at her brother. “You can come?!” With his duties for the Crownsguard and the prince, after all, oftentimes, heʼd had to miss out on some of Irisʼ school activities. But that evening, he decided he was going to make this work. 

“Wouldnʼt miss it for the kingdom,” Gladio promised with a smirk. 

Her squeal of victory was enough to convince him this was going to be worth it. She flew up to her knees, hands thrown up as she dove for her brother as if he were a ball pit. Gladio laughed, wrapping his arms around her for a gentle squeeze. 

And setting the trap—for all that he loved this sister of his, he wasnʼt a brother without his set of pranks. As soon as heʼd had her securely in his hug, it was easy enough for him to grasp her by the back of her head and stuff her face into the sweaty pit of his arm. Her reaction was instantaneous—electrified, a panicked scream tearing through her young throat. 

Gladio guffawed. Iris never forgave him for such tricks and always avenged herself with mean punches, this time on his bare chest, but he always retaliated with a barrage of tickles from his own deft fingers. What followed was another excited screech and hysterical laughter. 

“Gla- _ddyyy!!!_ ” Iris cried, kicking. 

“You think Iʼm the only one who stinks? Hm? Hm?” He made a show of poking his nose into the crook of her neck, another one of her ticklish spots. Iris jumped and squealed again. “Mm, youʼre stinker than me, youʼre stinkier than me!”

“So stop hugging me, Gladdy!” They were on their sides now, Iris trapped. By now her kicks have softened so she could breathe easier while she still laughed. “Gladdy, Iʼm stinky because of you!”

“What a surprise to see you here, Gladiolus.”

All that warmth from spending time with his sister, that bliss of exhaustion after a good workout, everything fled from his flesh and bones the moment that proud voice filled the room. Clarus Amicitia didnʼt have to shout—but to Gladioʼs ears, he may as well have. 

Gladio released Iris in an instant as he scrambled up to his bare feet. “Dad!” was his surprised greeting. Still dressed in his council robes, he stood by the door leading in and out of the combat room, watching his son. 

Squaring his shoulders, he bowed to his father. He turned to his left to make sure Iris had done the same, standing next to him. They were still catching their breaths. 

Under his fatherʼs scrutinizing eye, Gladio felt his nakedness keenly. “W, we were just,” he stammered, cleared his throat. “Sparring,” he tried again. “You’re home for dinner?”

“No, just to pick up some things,” Clarus answered. Gladio felt his lungs loosen up a bit, and he hated it. 

He watched his father crouch to slip out of his shoes and pad onto the mat. Gladio felt a rock clog his throat. “Iʼll be taking my dinner with the king. Weʼll have meetings until late so I wonʼt be home until tomorrow.”

“What time?” Iris sputtered, frowning at Clarus as he approached. “Will you be back home by breakfast?”

“Iʼm afraid Iʼll miss your cooking for tomorrow, little flower.” Clarus smiled slightly at his daughter, tapping at her chin. She tried to chew off her smile, looking away. “But if youʼll cook for me for lunch, Iʼll come running home.” To this, Iris giggled. Gladio could feel his heart beating. 

Clarus faced him now, and his heart stopped. “Howʼs her training going?” he asked. 

“Good,” Gladio nodded. He looked down to his sister to give her a cheeky smile. “She knows how to kick high and land safe now.”

Iris beamed back at him, wriggling like a worm, unable to contain her glee. 

“And of the prince? Howʼs his progress?” Of course. Always the prince, always about being the Shield. Pride, honor, duty. Filial piety. 

“Doing well,” Gladio answered evenly, minding his breathing. “Iʼve finally started him on the shield.”

“Yes, good.” Clarus nodded. “Heʼll need that in the future. Where are you training him? I didnʼt see either of you in the Citadel this afternoon.” Damn, was he looking for him? 

“Uh—” Gladio cleared his throat, felt his blood pulsing in his ears, his nerves on edge. “No, we werenʼt in the Citadel today. I thought we could take a break today so thatʼs what we did.” He didnʼt want to lie to his father, was never raised in the habit of it but he saw no need to tell him about Noctisʼ allergies, whatever they were. He thought Clarusʼ brows made the slightest quiver in the tensed pause. 

The backhanded smack across his cheek was not what he expected to come from it. Gladio landed heavily on the mat with light bursting in his head, the taste of blood on his tongue. Someone was screaming. 

It was only when heʼd made out the name, “ _Gladdy!!_ ” that he realized whose voice it was. By then, another punch had landed on his shoulder, causing him to jump in shock and pain. There was nothing he could do then but to curl up, hiding his head under his arms. 

“Do you even understand what is at stake here?!” Clarus bellowed all of a sudden, causing Gladio to flinch. “The Chosen King cannot be allowed simply to slack off at the behest of his Shield!”

“Itʼs not—” Gladio cried when a socked foot landed on his back. 

Iris cried again, “Dad, _stop!!_ ”

“If the Shield fails to perform his duty to the Crown, the king fails himself! Do you want the Chosen King to fail?!”

“Iʼm not—”

“ _Do you?!_ ”

“ _No!_ ” he roared, the only acceptable answer. Gladio couldnʼt even look beyond the shadows within his forearms now, protecting his face. The screaming had gone quiet but now Iris was wailing, somewhere he couldnʼt reach her. He shut his eyes. This was the worst nightmare he could think of. 

All the ferocity seemed to have dissipated all of a sudden when Clarus sighed. Gladio listened to his footsteps, gauging the distance between him and his back from the sounds and vibrations in the mat. He was stumbling a little as if for balance. 

“Gladiolus,” Clarus went on. “Would that you and His Highness were born in more peaceful times but it is not our place in this Star to question the Crystalʼs will. And yet here I see you, taking your duty lightly as though it was a mere employment that paid well!”

He didnʼt. Gods knew Gladio didnʼt and he didnʼt even need his father for it. Ever since he was young, he knew he wanted the same respect his father gained among his colleagues, the same worth to be bestowed with the wings on his back. To receive them, he knew he had to step up and own them—join the Crownsguard, train as the Shield, surpass all others and oneself. A competition of one. Ever since then, his days had been nothing but uphill battles and hard-fought victories. It was a hard life but he knew it was his to conquer and he thrived in the challenge. But some battles… 

Some battles couldnʼt just be won by the size of his muscles or the breadth of his sword. Some battles, it felt like heʼd already lost them before the victor could be decided. 

“Have I raised you wrong? Did I lack in my teaching?”

“No,” Gladio answered meekly, shaking his head to the mat. “No, you didnʼt. It was my fault. Iʼm sorry.” He was still lacking. He was still weak. Surrendering his own free will by saying whatever would stop his father from hurting him. He needed to be stronger, he needed to work harder. 

“Apologies do nothing!” Another kick at the side. Iris cried again. “You dare to deserve that ink on your back but you do little to honor it! In this house, you pray to the altar of Gilgamesh daily but take nothing from your meditation! Being a Shield isnʼt merely a performance trick, it costs more than blood and toil—!”

“ _Dad, stop!!_ ” Gladio could never have expected Little Iris to protect him with herself. When he felt her tiny figure drape itself on his wide back, it was all he could do not to howl in fright. She might catch their fatherʼs fist like this. He could hurt her. 

That was all he could think about when he rose suddenly to wrap himself around her, turned away from his father while Iris reached her hands forward and demanded hysterically, “Stop hitting Gladdy, please, stop hurting my brother!!” Gladio tried desperately to hush her raging spirit, but what else could he expect from an Amicitia? 

For a time, all he could hear was the shaking in his breath, his own sobbing and his sisterʼs strained wailing, voice tight and frightened. 

He listened for Clarusʼ movements again, felt his father stepping backwards. He tightened his grasp on his sister, ready to spring into action if he ever raised his hand on her. 

“Your sister does a better job being Shield!” Clarus hissed. Gladio winced at the bite of those words. 

He couldnʼt even watch his father leave the room. He waited only for the door to slam shut before he boosted himself up to his knees and pulled his sister to a tight embrace, shushing her still when she began to shriek into his shoulder. 

“I hate him,” she cried. “I hate him!”

“Shhh, no, no. Donʼt hate him.”

“ _I hate him!!_ ” 

“Donʼt hate him. Iris, listen to me.” Gladio was still shaking when he nudged his sister back so he could look at her tearful face, lowering himself to his calves, closer to her height. Clumsy fingers tried to brush her cheeks dry as he said, “Iʼm going to be the Shield of the King, and I have to be tough. Dad only wants whatʼs good for me and the kingdom.” She canʼt hate him. It wasnʼt his fault his son was weak. 

“Heʼs hurting you!” Iris persisted, acid in her tongue. Gladio shook his head. “ _I hate him!_ Why does he have to hurt you?!”

“Heʼs not! Heʼs not, look,” Gladio bounced his fist lightly where Clarus had hit him on the left side of his face. A dull sting marked the impact. That was going to show. “See? Iʼm not hurt.” Iris reached with her smaller hand to cup his bruise, then brushed his own tears off. “Dad didnʼt hurt me. Stop crying. Donʼt hate him.” After they lost their mother, Iris became their fatherʼs closest reminder of his wife. He was always soft towards her. And for that, Gladio could only be grateful. If that was ever lost, he could blame no one but himself. 

He was echoing his words when Iris dove to hug him again so she could sob on his shoulder. Gladio wrapped his own arms around her, pressing a kiss on her hair, swaying a little to soothe her like he used to do when she was younger. She was no child anymore, of course. Iris had already started her teen years, and she was smart besides. A bright young woman. 

Gladio doubted she would ever forget about this, but still, he had to try and protect her from the ugliest truths of it.


	2. Chapter 2

Iris does a mean kick. 

That was the first lie that came to his mind when his brothers among the Crownsguard had asked after his swollen cheek. Before he left the house, heʼd gulped down a full bottle of potion and borrowed (though he decided against asking permission) one of Irisʼ makeup to cover up a bit of the discoloration just under his cheek bone, but knowing eyes could hardly be fooled. Still, they fell for his alibi and laughed with him. 

“She does her house proud, Gladio,” one of them said, clapping him on his bad shoulder. Gladio agreed—she did her house prouder than he could ever. 

By lunch break, he escaped into one of the menʼs rooms farthest from the Crownsguardʼs barracks and offices where he was least likely to run into them. After he relieved himself, he washed his hands, taking the chance to inspect his cheek on the mirror installed above the faucet. 

That was where he caught a familiar profile entering the menʼs room, gloved hand pinching the skin above his glasses, his head bowed. He didnʼt need to see his face to know that it was twisted with discomfort, something he only dared to wear when he thought he was safe from the public eye. 

“Hey, Ignis.” Gladioʼs greeting leapt out of his mouth with a little skip from his heart before he could stop himself. Too late. In general, of course, the rule was: donʼt talk to your ex. Donʼt _even_ be friends with your ex, especially after youʼve _just_ broken up. But with his and Ignisʼ jobs, that was hardly realistic. Even after that disastrous date, they had to meet again the next day, and the next, then the next. Convenient. In any case, if there was anything this proved, he thought, it was that they were both being totally mature about this. So it should be okay. “Rough morning?” Right? 

“Gladio,” Ignis sounded a little surprised when he noticed him. He made a soft noise when he brought his fingers to his forehead again, frowning still. “Yes. I had an emergency meeting first thing in the morning and havenʼt had time for a proper breakfast. I just now got out of my third meeting.”

“You serious?” Gladio sputtered. “Itʼs already lunch time.” Just because they were exes didnʼt mean he couldnʼt care about his friend and his princeʼs advisor anymore, right? 

“And what a pity, isnʼt it?” Ignis smiled slightly at his sordid fate. “Could I bother you to look after my stuff for a bit? I really need to go.”

“Yeah, sure, just leave it there.” Gladio watched him deposit his laptop and phone, a short cable connecting both, on the dry space of the black marble counter right of him and practically run for it. He rinsed off the soap from his hands and dried them out on the blower. 

Ignis returned to his side with a breath of relief, the flush echoing against the walls. By then, Gladio was back to inspecting his cheek, though he made a conscious effort not to touch it. “Thatʼs better,” he said, switching on the faucet. “Thank you.”

“Donʼt mention it.” Gladio was a little distracted. “So whatʼs next?”

“A quick lunch,” Ignis sighed, rubbing the soap around his fingers before he washed them off. “And then lessons.”

“Lessons?”

“A science tutorial, really.” Ignis smiled at Gladio. “Noct and Prompto must finish a project in two weeks so I must see what I can do to help them.”

“As expected of Ignis,” Gladio quipped, grinning at the man. Ignis smirked with pride because of course he would. “At this rate, thereʼs no way those two can fail!”

“Thatʼs the hope,” Ignis agreed. Then he blinked. 

He stared closely at Gladioʼs face then which caused him to shift sideways, but not before Ignis could catch his chin and angle his face where the dim lights might catch his cheek…oh.

“What happened here?” Ignis demanded evenly. 

“Uh…Iris,” Gladio lied again. “She does a mean kick.” Heʼd rehearsed it well, by now. Only this time, the audience was sharper than he could ever be. 

And Ignis didnʼt laugh with him—he glared at him instead.

—

They found a quiet spot in one of the Citadelʼs many corridors which Gladio had only passed on some rare occasion where he required some coded documents pertaining to his affiliation with the royal family. Bureaucratic administrative stuff. He sat patiently by the narrow ledge that carried the massive windows, the early afternoon sunlight shining through the clear glass.

“We could have just stayed in the restroom,” he noted while he watched Ignis pull off his gloves and set them atop his laptop, next to a brown paper bag. From it, he produced a flat vial that smelled both minty and spicy as he unscrewed it open. Ignis drew light circles on its semi-clear surface with the pad of his right middle finger. 

Gladio stilled himself when Ignis transferred the substance to his cheek, stroking lightly. Ignisʼ face was very close to his… “Or maybe not.”

“Definitely not,” Ignis reaffirmed, returning to the vial. “The light is too dim there, and wonʼt show me the fullest extent of your injury. Which I suppose was your intention.”

“Huh,” Gladio said. He actually didnʼt know anymore. He just didnʼt want to be seen. “So…how bad is it?”

Ignisʼ hand paused shortly before his finger touched his cheek. He didnʼt disguise the frown on his face when he rubbed the balm gently onto his skin again. “I have serious doubts Iris did this.” He didnʼt explain why. 

Gladioʼs gaze fell. Caught, he couldnʼt look at Ignis, choosing instead to inspect his fingers and the hem of his Crownsguard uniform. 

“What happened, Gladio?” This time, when he asked him, he spoke gently and quietly, like the weight of his finger on his cheek. 

Gladio knitted his brows. He didnʼt know what to say but he didnʼt want to hide the truth from Ignis. Ignis would know if he was lying and he didnʼt want to upset him. Even though…they werenʼt…

But what sort of Amicitia talked about his family behind his back? There was no honor in it, nothing to be gained from soiling his proud name. 

“Gladio.”

Carefully, Ignis carried his face back to him, kind fingers on his chin. Gladio always loved being looked at by those eyes…as long as Ignis wasnʼt disappointed in him, that is. But theirs were a soft kind of green that wasnʼt striking but…was quite lush. Like grasses in the morning as he said once. Ignis had laughed, then. Didnʼt blush. “Thatʼs funny,” heʼd said. “If youʼre trying to make a career out of being a poet, let me know and I might be able to recommend better books than what youʼre reading.” Heʼd smirked when Gladio scowled; that technique of his often worked. “But thank you. They do sound lovely now that you put it that way.” Ignis was the only person who never fell for his sweet nothings. Gladio had been the one who tried to woo Ignis but in reality, he was the one who fell for him… 

Gladio avoided him again, those eyes he once loved to kiss being too heavy for him. “Ignis,” he began after a long pause. Heʼd hoped his indecision would just frustrate his ex but what did he expect out of Noctisʼ caretaker? A surprise smirk came to his face when he finally came up with a response. “Donʼt you remember? Weʼve done this before.”

“I donʼt get your meaning.”

“Some years ago, I came to work with a burst lip. Iʼd told you Iʼd landed on my face during training, and youʼd put on some balm on me, as well. When we started dating, I told you the truth about what happened…”

The truth was that Gladio had been caught kissing a man, another member of the Crownsguard, his boyfriend at that time. That was the first time Clarus had ever raised his hand on his own son. But at least, Gladio thought during those moments, Iris was on a camping trip and hadn’t seen her father beating her brother. 

“ _Are you a man?_ ”

“ _Yes, Dad…_ ”

“ _Are you a real man?!_ ”

“ _Yes!!_ ”

“ _Then make sure of it!! You belong to the male line of the Amicitia who will soon be Shield of the King. If I catch you holding hands with another man again, I will cut off those fingers myself!!_ ”

Gladio never told Ignis about his fatherʼs threats, or the true weight of his hatred. He didnʼt think he needed to know, and he didnʼt want him to know either… 

But now Ignis stared at him half-incredulously, balm forgotten. “You’re saying…” He shook his head. “Let me rephrase that—youʼre _not_ saying…that you were caught with another man, are you?” 

Gladio shook his head. 

“But as for Master Clarusʼ involvement…” Count on Ignis to understand the sensitivity of the matter. Gladio smiled. 

Ignis exhaled, turning away in disbelief. He was one of the few people who knew about his familyʼs history of…explosive emotions. “But why?” he hissed, whirling back to Gladio who took the vial from his hands. “What is it again, this time?”

“I told you, Iʼm just under a lot of pressure right now.” Gladio screwed it shut. “He asked about Noctʼs training,” he went on when Ignis refused to speak. “You know we skipped class yesterday.”

“Noct told me,” Ignis confirmed. “I caught him napping and reading comics instead of cleaning up his apartment and doing his school and office work.”

Gladio chuckled. At least he was resting. “Dad didnʼt think I should have done that.”

“And for that, you deserve that thing on your face.” The sarcasm was acidic in Ignisʼ voice. 

“Iʼm the Sworn Shield of the Chosen King, Ignis.” It was time everyone got with that program—him, most of all. No more dilly-dallying—he was the Sworn Shield of the Chosen King and he had better get it right for Noct. 

“Thatʼs what you both always say,” Ignis sighed, shaking his head, pressing his knuckle on his forehead again. He hated reaching this part of the conversation, where neither he nor Gladio would give. A stalemate. Gladio would offer no solution for it, not when he knew Ignis would not agree with him. Instead, he would have offered his expertise to relieve that headache, but he doubted he was still in the position to administer it to his ex. 

“Itʼs just straight up not a good time to be in a relationship with me,” Gladio chuckled. 

“Does Jessie know?” Jessie… 

Jessie was a journalist he met in one of the Citadelʼs press conferences. Heʼd been assigned to security detail that day, and the next one that followed. They chatted a little, exchanged numbers, went on a date, had sex in her apartment. 

Now theyʼd been together for a month. Jessie was a breath of fresh air for Gladio—no old families, no wealth, no expectations. A woman without strings, unlike he and Ignis. 

“Jessie doesnʼt have to know,” Gladio said. And before Ignis could argue him into a corner again, he gestured to the paper bag waiting atop his laptop. “Hey, eat up. Donʼt you have lessons after this?”

“Oh shoot, yes.” Ignis suddenly remembered his day. He wiped his finger on the palm of his hand and then carried the bag onto his lap. Heʼd bought a fat burger from one of the underground stalls the Citadel had prepared for its employees and took a big bite from it. Gladio fished out the can of Ebony he knew would be in it and popped it open. 

“My thanks,” Ignis said, taking the can to gulp down a mouthful. “Shouldnʼt you head back to your duties, then?”

“Nah,” Gladio replied, grunting as he stretched out his long legs and leaned back to the window. “Iʼm still on break.” Well, technically he wasnʼt anymore but no one was still texting him, and he missed spending time with Ignis. He shouldnʼt, but he did. And they were being adults about this, anyway, talking about normal work things. Right? “Hey, eat slowly, you donʼt want to choke.” 

For some time, that was all Ignis did—chew and drink. Gladio for his part took this opportunity to rest his eyes, enjoying the comfortable silence. 

“Tension is high in the Citadel these days.”

“Hm?” Gladio opened his eyes again, turning to Ignis. 

Ignis looked pensively on the polished floor, chewing carefully this time. “The meetings I had…itʼs about the Wall and the checkpoints. Later on, weʼll talk about the supplies for the city.” He bit into his sandwich. 

“W, what do you mean?” Gladio choked, twisting to face Ignis better. “Are…are we losing the war?”

Ignis looked gravely at whatever was left of his lunch. “No one wants to talk,” he answered vaguely. “But everyone wants to prepare for the worst. And I fear I may be missing out on much of the action.” He stuffed the rest of the burger into his mouth and crumpled the wrapping. 

“Is that a good idea?” Gladio asked, watching Ignis drain his coffee. “If you miss out on this, Noct misses out on it, too.”

“My theory is that they donʼt want him to know,” Ignis shared. He crushed the can and tossed everything into the paper bag. After wiping his hands on his handkerchief, he put on his gloves again. “But I havenʼt got time to look into it. That is…” 

Gladio rose with Ignis who carried his laptop in one hand, rubbish in the other. 

“Theyʼve stuffed up my schedule with meetings to keep my head down.” Ignis pushed his glasses back with the back of his wrist. “And Iʼm scrambling as it is.” So maybe he really didnʼt have enough time to make him that second snack box, after all. 

“Well, donʼt forget to drink some water,” Gladio reminded him with a toss of his hand. “I know youʼre Ignis but even Ignis canʼt rely on coffee alone.”

Ignis smirked. “Watch Ignis,” he said. Gladio snorted, grinning. “Thank you for the company, Gladio. I…really enjoyed it.”

The shy admission caught him by surprise, and Gladio smiled for it. “I missed it, too,” he whispered. He shouldnʼt. He shouldnʼt…but…

But something about Ignisʼ eyes seemed to light up there, he thought. And it almost felt like both of them…the two of them… 

“The balm,” Ignis said suddenly, raising the hand with the brown bag to his cheek. “Put it on as needed. For maybe three days.”

“Ah, got it.” Heʼd forgotten heʼd pocketed the thing. Speaking of which— “Hey, one more thing!”

Ignis had already started to turn when Gladio caught up with him. He stood waiting while he fished for something in his other pocket. 

And revealed it to be some chocolate mini bars, three of them. He wasnʼt in the habit of carrying emergency candies around but Jessie had shown him their benefits. 

“Pop one in whenever youʼre starting to get hungry,” Gladio advised him, taking the liberty to slip them in Ignisʼ pocket. “The sugar should tide you over until you get a proper meal. Donʼt they serve lunch in your meetings? I thought this was the Citadel?”

“Have they ever served lunch in _your_ meetings, Gladio?” Ignis rebutted, chuckling. “Thank you. Theyʼll help.”

Gladio nodded, then. So… 

He waved. Ignis had to go. 

With a nod of his head, Ignis turned and hurried out of the corridor. He ought to do the same. 

But he had to wait for Ignis to disappear behind the corner before he went and hurried back to his own tasks. For no other reason that he wanted to extend his time with Ignis just a little longer. Just like what he used to do.

—

After that brief chat with Ignis, Gladio came to realize a number of things: he missed Ignis. He still loved Ignis. He wanted Jessie, too, and he shouldnʼt be doing this to her. But the Citadel was shaking up—he better keep his ears on the ground. Ignis would appreciate the help, and so would Noct. If whatever was happening was big enough to affect the prince himself, then he better make sure Noctis was ready to face it. And him, too—Gladio doubly so.

If Noctis was ever forced into a dangerous situation, then heʼd have to rescue him and protect him. That was his job as his Shield. But more than that Noctis was his friend—and heʼd be damned if anything were to happen to him. 

He came at Noctis with another great roar and swung his broadsword down for a gigantic smash. Noctis caught it squarely by his shield then responded with his own sideways slash which would have disembodied Gladioʼs arm if it were real and he hadnʼt blocked the attack in time. 

“Good swing!” Gladio huffed, stepping away from his pupil; he was working up a sweat. “Remember that motion on your elbow, thatʼs the way it goes.”

“Oh?” Noctis smirked at him from across the room, half-crouching to prepare for another volley of strikes, left arm holding the shield up before him, right hand wielding his wooden broadsword. Three training sessions after the break, Gladio almost couldnʼt believe that except for a few more improvements here and there, Noctis finally looked like a proper fighter. Someone he might even be willing to entrust his life to, should it ever come to that (which, of course, it shouldnʼt). “Unless Iʼm going deaf, thatʼs the second compliment Iʼve heard from you in an hour.”

“Ha!” Gladio barked. “You want me to wipe the floor with that face of yours? Be my guest.” That was the thing about Noctis, though—he was so bad at not being good at something, he would much rather not make the effort than to face the truth. Once heʼd gotten the gist of it, though, he was practically on fire. Unstoppable. Maybe even enjoying himself. It was these training sessions that Gladio enjoyed the most—the ego game, the shit talks, the competition. Noctis had always had it in him, of course—it just took some time for him to trust Gladio as a friend and open up a little more. Always so guarded, always surrounded by people poking their noses at him. Prince this, prince that. 

He knew where they were coming from—he came from there, too. But Gladio couldnʼt say he didnʼt sympathize with the prince. Duty this, honor that… 

Early sunset light burned the Citadel training room, shrouding the parts it could not touch in the room. The crossed polearms on the wall, the tapestry between them, the suits of armor, the bookshelves. In another hour, the automated lights would come on and light the way for both fighters. Still some time to go before Gladio could call it a day. 

“On the count of three, Noct,” Gladio prompted him, flexing his sword fingers. He adapted the same fighting form as the prince. “One. Two.”

He came at him in the next heartbeat, leaving two slashes on Noctisʼ defenses then leaping back when he finally retaliated, leaping forward. Gladio brought his shield up so his pupil could return volley, then swung with his own sword. Noctis parried it with a wide sweep of his blade, dancing sideways for space. 

“Good!” Gladio roared. “Again!” Again and again—those were his instructions for the day. A full set of choreographed steps until he and Noctis could fill the room with their strikes and misses and he could get the hang of a one-handed defense and offense. 

“Last one!” It started with five repetitions, then eight, then ten, then twelve—the highest Noctis could manage before the shield threatened to sprain his elbow. In reality, though, Gladio had lost count. Noctis just kept chasing him, leaving angrier and angrier cuts. Heʼd only decided to stop when he thought Noctis was looking a little out of air. 

At the end of their tour, Noctis finally relieved himself of the shield, then used it as a brace as he crouched behind it and caught his breath. And then it came again, another streak of coughing. 

“Hey, isnʼt that okay, yet?” Gladio came to him with a cold bottle of sports drink and the same flask from last time, along with two towels. Noctis reached for one as Gladio sat next to him, and then his tea. “You shouldnʼt hide this from Ignis.”

“Itʼs not serious. I can still keep up with you, right?” Well, he had a good point. But… 

Noctis dropped to sit, then, and took some time simply to press the plush fabric to his face, still breathing hard. He coughed again, running the same towel over his layered hair before he left it on his lap to open the flask. “Anyway, Iʼve been taking my allergy meds. Should do it.” 

“Careful with that thing, itʼs hot.”

“Did you remember to bring the tea bags?”

“Yeah.” Gladio pointed to the school bag lying on the floor. “Put it in your bag. But if Ignis finds it before you, thatʼs not my problem, anymore.” Noctis responded simply by filling up the flask cup and taking a careful sip in silence. “Howʼs graduation coming along?”

Noctis paused briefly with the cup on his lips. “Itʼs going,” was his lackluster report. “Iʼve been fitted for my suit but…Iʼm not even sure I can make it to the ceremony.”

“Hey, seriously?” Gladio had been about to gulp down his sports drink when Noctis had answered. “Cʼmon, that canʼt be right. Thatʼs practically one of the best things about finishing school!”

“Ignis thinks I should start attending meetings once Iʼm done with school,” Noctis went on, eyes on the floor. “The first meeting clashes with my graduation date.” He coughed. 

“If Ignis knew about that, Iʼm sure heʼll do something about it.” Gladio finally got that mouthful for himself. 

Noctis took another pause. The question that followed wasnʼt exactly what Gladio expected, though. “You seen Ignis lately?”

“Uh—” Gladio cleared his throat. “Around the Citadel, yeah.”

“Somethingʼs not right with him.” Noctis coughed, raising the cup again. “Feels like heʼs hiding something from me. Heʼs still acting like things are normal but…something tells me he keeps his guard up around me.” The meetings, Gladio thought. The secrets Ignis was still trying to find out. Noctis wasnʼt exactly the kind of devoted prince that was ideal for fairytale stories but Gladio had seen firsthand how important his heritage was to him—if only for the people he found through it. As one of his tutors, Gladio ought to side with his fellow tutor Ignis. But for this occasion, he doubted a Shield or a trainer was what Noctis needed. He needed a friend before he shut himself away again. 

“Tell him I told you.”

“Huh?” Noctis turned to Gladio, brows wrinkled. 

Gladio smirked. “Just that. Tell him I told you about the meetings and his hectic schedule. Then act like you really know and youʼre disappointed in him. Youʼre good at that.” He nudged the prince amicably. 

“Not sure I am,” Noctis muttered, popping a brow. “So thatʼs all youʼre gonna tell me?”

“Iʼm not the one attending meetings here, Noct,” Gladio replied. “Itʼll be better if it comes from him.”

“Fine,” Noctis said, finishing his tea. “Well, thanks.” He raised his forearm to Gladio so he could cross it with his. Coughed again. “Iʼll try.”

“You sure you still got it?” Gladio asked him, clapping him lightly on the back and giving his shoulder a little shake. “Fighting is hard work for your breathing.”

“Yeah.” Noctis nodded, brushing his concern off. “Iʼll be fine tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow? We still got some time tonight.” Gladio raised his brow. “You standing me up again?”

“Huh?” Noctis turned to him, his own brows tight. “Havenʼt you got a date tonight?” A date. Really? Of all the—

“ _Shit,_ ” Gladio snarled, jumping up suddenly to his feet to race to his backpack. Practically ripped it open to dig inside for his phone and fumble the screen open. The date and the time flashed at him accusingly. He paled, missing a heartbeat. 

“Damn, youʼre right!” His panic echoed and filled up the whole room. Gladio pitched his phone into the depths of his bag and hurried back to Noctis watching his progress, carefree as a cat. “How could I have forgotten?!”

“Too much muscle?” Noctis snickered, reaching up to hand him his sealed flask. Gladio snatched it from him. “See you tomorrow, eh?”

“Yeah, yeah. Hey!” Gladio was chasing his breath while he braced his hands on his sides, half-glaring at Noctis. “Just because Iʼm calling it off tonight doesnʼt mean you get to slack off, again.”

“Huh?” Noctis frowned. “How come you get to have a good time and I donʼt?”

“‘cause youʼre the future king, thatʼs why! And besides you havenʼt got a date.”

“Iʼve got a date with the bed.”

“Get a few swings in before you jack off. Thatʼs your homework!” Gladio hurried off, scooping up his bag along the way. “And donʼt think I wonʼt be checking in!”

“Okay, okay.” That was the last thing he heard from the prince before he pulled the door open and slammed it shut behind him.

—

Not exactly the way heʼd like to dismiss a session but that was on him. It wasnʼt Noctʼs fault that heʼd lost track of his schedule (Too much muscle? Try too much duty) and he really ought to thank him for the reminder, instead. Come tomorrow, he better make it up to him. It was the weekend, after all. Maybe thereʼll be a sale going on somewhere.

In an ideal world where Gladio had known what time it was, heʼd planned to drop by the flower shop and the chocolatier for some sweet surprises on the way to the restaurant. What time he would have set aside for it, though, was now spent in the bathroom where he was running his razor along the sides of his hair and his beard after a long shower, just to clean up a little. After putting on some fresh clothes and grabbing his leather jacket, he was running out the house. 

Still didnʼt make it in time; Jessie had already ordered some soft drink and appetizer for herself when heʼd arrived at the table, greeting her with a quick messy kiss. 

“Long day at work?” sheʼd asked. 

“Yeah,” Gladio grunted, snapping his fingers for the menu. “Then there was a problem with the train, something about the coupling. So I had to get off at the wrong station and run the rest of the way.”

“Oh poor you,” Jessie purred. “Still not convinced about driving?”

“Too busy,” was all Gladio said. And then the menu came to save him. 

They ordered food, talked, stayed for some coffee and cakes, had a good time. 

“Quit starting at me like that, I feel like youʼre going to eat me alive,” Jessie giggled, blushing as she cuffed her long brown hair over her ear, looking pretty. Gladio smiled. “What?” she asked, laughing still. 

“I just,” Gladio shook his head, “I just canʼt get over how cute you are. I just love making you blush.”

“You’re doing it again!”

“Donʼt like your boyfriend calling you cute?”

“Of course, I do,” Jessie snorted, rolling her eyes. And the way she wrinkled her nose made Gladio smile brighter. “What woman doesnʼt?” She reached for his hand, then. 

Gladio took those delicate fingers gently, running a rough thumb lightly over them. They were so small in his, and so smooth. 

Jessie laughed softly, watching the action. “You love doing that.”

“Hm?”

“I just realized it—you love holding my hand whenever weʼre out on a date.”

A privilege often denied him, which he enjoyed whenever he could. The last time heʼd tried it with another person he…they… 

Gladio smiled again, keeping his mind on the present. Jessie smiled back. He kept his mind on that. 

“S, so uh…” Jessie cleared her throat, looking again at their joined hands. She laughed, flashing a little teeth. She looked beautiful. “Umm…sooo my place?” She looked up to him. “Again?”

Again—of course. Always, if it came down to it. Gladio had never brought anyone home to meet his family, or to spend some time with him in his room. He had a young sister—that was always what he liked to tell himself. Iris had met some of them, of course, but only very briefly on some dates. In fact, the only one of his exes she could truly say she knew personally was… 

He paid the bill and got in her car, digging into one of his jeansʼ many pockets to feel for any condoms. Jessie drove carefully with a navigation app and soft music playing on her radio. 

She lived in one of the quieter neighborhoods of Insomnia, not far from the ramparts, in an old medium-rise with a balcony where she kept her little urban garden and her hanging. She took a shower while Gladio waited in her bedroom, stripping down to his briefs. And then they made love. 

He was alone by the time he woke up. He remembered falling asleep with Jessie napping on his belly but he couldnʼt find her in the room now. Through the open door, he could hear soft music playing, the sound of plates hitting wood. He looked at the time on his phone. It was only past 10… 

Gladio scooped up Jessieʼs towel from the floor and held it around his waist, too short to be knotted. He padded out to her balcony, his phone to his ear. He listened to it ring. 

Someone picked up. “Well?” he demanded, looking out to the wall of the next building. There was a pause… 

The voice groaned. “ _Seriously?_ ” Someone sounded like theyʼd been sleeping. “ _I thought you were on a date?_ ”

“Doesnʼt stop me from being your Shield,” Gladio said, raising his brow even though there was no one to see it. “So did you?”

Another groan. “ _Uh huh,_ ” Noctis mumbled. 

“Weʼll find out tomorrow. Iʼm calling Ignis. Weʼll meet at 2 in the afternoon.”

“ _If you werenʼt gonna take my word for it, why even call me in the first place?_ ” Noctis muttered. “ _And besides, should you really be calling your ex while youʼre with your girlfriend?_ ”

“You canʼt stop me. Iʼll see you tomorrow.”

“ _Yeah, whatever._ ” Gladio caught Noctis coughing before he hung up. 

He really doubted these were allergies anymore but that was a problem for a different time. Gladio scanned for Ignisʼ number on his list and contacted him. 

He answered quickly enough. “ _Gladio._ ” Ignisʼ voice was always so even. “ _Whatʼs up?_ ”

“Training starts early tomorrow,” Gladio said, dialing down his own volume. He frowned slightly at the carrots in their little pots by his feet. “Two oʼclock. In the Citadel training room. I already called him.”

Silence on Ignisʼ end. “ _Understood. Iʼll bring him over._ ”

“Okay,” Gladio said, exploring the rest of Jessieʼs mini garden. “Thatʼs all I called to say.” Or was it? 

“Hey, Ignis.”

“ _Yes, Gladio?_ ” His voice…so cool and soothing. 

Gladio forgot what he had to add. Or was there anything? Was it Noctisʼ coughing? His graduation? Or something else he shouldnʼt say… 

“Pack heavy. It’ll be a long day tomorrow.”

“ _Very well,_ ” Ignis said. “ _Weʼll be ready._ ”

“Good.”

“ _Weʼll see you tomorrow, Gladio._ ”

“Yeah. See you tomorrow, Ignis,” Gladio said. He hung up. 

He almost jumped in surprise when he headed back in and caught Jessie standing by her doorway, his jacket on, but otherwise still naked. She carried a tray with her, loaded with a plate full of pizza slices and two cans of beer. “Hey,” he said, trying not to sound too shocked. 

Jessie smiled again, that same smile she wore in the restaurant just before they left. A smile that was…a smile. Just that. 

“Hey,” she said, raising the tray a little. “Hungry?”

“Yeah,” Gladio agreed, clearing his throat. He padded back to the bed, leaving the towel on the floor as he crawled in with Jessie. He welcomed himself to a slice while Jessie popped the cans open for the both of them. Cheese. Very greasy. He washed it down with some beer. 

“Hungry bear,” Jessie snickered, biting from her own slice. 

“A bear?” Gladio was amused, laughing in his chest. “First time anyone called me that!”

“Well, what do they call you, hm? A…” Her hand reached for the image of the bird over his shoulder, tracing its beak. “What is this? An eagle? A hawk?” Her thumb wandered down to his nipple. 

Gladio smiled. The bird was neither of those and probably nothing that she knew of. And for that… 

She knew he was part of the Crownsguard, that he was a member of an old and well-connected family but if Gladio could help it, he would share no more than that. No Shields, no Chosen Kings. Nothing. 

“A bird,” Gladio chuckled, taking her hand to kiss her fingers. Soft and smooth. “A cool bird.” Jessie laughed. “Havenʼt had anyone call me a cool bird, though.”

“So what do they call you?”

“Thereʼs this guy who calls me a gorilla.”

Jessie let out a great laughter, throwing her head back. It made Gladio beam, laughing with her. “A gorilla!” she tittered. “I can almost see it—you pounding your big brawny chest and roaring out loud.”

“You gonna call me one now?”

“Can I?” Jessie giggled. She touched his chest again. “Will you let me?” she asked more softly. 

Gladio wrinkled his brows, smirking a little. “If you want,” he said. What sort of question was that? She was his girlfriend. “Not gonna stop you.”

Jessie smiled again. She got on her knees then, nudging the tray aside. 

Gladio met her in a kiss, slipping his fingers through her soft hair to hold her nape. “Mm,” he moaned as they parted, licking his lips. “Tastes like cheese pizza.” They laughed again. 

“Are you happy?” Jessie asked, cupping his jaw lightly. He nodded, their foreheads and noses touching. “Yeah?”

“Donʼt believe me?” Gladio asked her. A soft challenge, and a little teasing. He carried her hand from his jaw down to his cock, letting her fingers explore its flesh. He still had one condom left, he thought. He leaned forward, kissing Jessie again. 

He couldnʼt believe it when Jessie pulled back, hand and lips and all. For a heartbeat there, Gladio could only sit dumbstruck. 

He reached for her again, aiming for her lips. 

She turned away, pulling her knees with her. Gladio felt stunned. What was it suddenly? Just now, they were… 

They were happy…werenʼt they? They had a good time at dinner, theyʼd made love…sheʼd smiled at him when he held her hand, when she stood by the door…was it something heʼd said? Didnʼt say? Didnʼt do…?

“Hey.” Gladio spoke softly, eyes wandering to her lips, her hands on her lap, his jacket on her. “Jessie?”

“Whoʼs Ignis?”

Gladio paled, stupefied. _Ignis?_ Why him? How did she know…? “H,” he choked, clenching his fists tight. “How…” This was wrong. 

“Are they someone?”

His ex. His best friend. His comrade in arms. How did she find out about him? 

Gladio snorted, smiling from the corner of his lips. He could feel his fingernails digging into his palms. What should he tell her? “Him? Just some guy I work with,” he said. “Why? Whatʼs wrong?” He tried to relax. He should have been more careful when he made that call. Too much duty… 

“Oh,” Jessie laughed, the tension on her shoulders breaking while she cuffed her hair again, trying to conceal her embarrassment. “N, no, I, I was just curious um…I heard you on the phone and…I thought you sounded serious.”

“Y, yeah, that…” Gladio scratched his head. “Sorry. It was work.” He should have been more careful. 

“I thought you didnʼt like bringing work to our dates.”

He didnʼt, did he? Gladio looked away. The greasy slices of pizza on their plate was a much better sight than his beautiful girlfriend. Why did he have to call now? He could have waited until he got home but… “Sorry. Itʼs just…” He had a duty. 

“Itʼs just work,” Jessie finished for him, smiling and nodding. “I get it.”

“Jessie…”

“You probably think Iʼm being silly right now,” Jessie laughed quietly, shaking her head. “Picking up a random name, weaving stories…” Stories that were probably true. “Itʼs just…sometimes I feel like youʼre not here, you know?” She faced him. “Sometimes it feels like youʼre being distant from me…that thereʼs something coming between us and you wonʼt do anything about it…” About his duty, his family. Or was it even still just about them, anymore? 

“Am I wrong?” she asked, struggling to smile. “Am I asking too much from you?” Theyʼd only been together for a month…it _has_ been that long since he and Ignis… 

What was he going to say? He didnʼt want to lie to her… 

Gladio ran the back of his finger gently over her knee…as gently as he could. Her skin was so flawless, no marks, no scars… 

“Itʼs getting late,” he said, tracing idle patterns on her leg. “Weʼre probably tired.” It has been quite a week for him. 

Gladio raised himself to press a kiss on Jessieʼs forehead. He still couldnʼt look at her when he got off the bed and picked up his clothes from the floor, making for the bathroom.


	3. Chapter 3

Not the best way to end a date. 

He couldnʼt even understand what went on in his head and drove him to say those words. It was true that after the morning had come, he still didnʼt know what he could have said but…really, Gladio? Really? 

He spent the whole night in his bedroom tossing and turning, unable to sleep. The words haunted him. Jessie, so inviting and naked in his jacket, haunted him. Come the morning, he called his girlfriend and invited her out for another date. 

“You free this lunch?” he asked, looking out the window from his bedroom to their garden where Iris was doing her morning yoga. He tried to sound cheerful but didnʼt want to seem like heʼd just brushed off what happened last night. But, he didnʼt want to be completely serious, either, despite the gravity of what heʼd done. “Thereʼs a new restaurant near the Citadel by a chef from Lestallum. Wanna give it a try?”

Jessieʼs silence spoke volumes. Normally this would have excited her—she loved getting in on the new trends, talking about them in her blogs. “ _Iʼm busy,_ ” she said. Like a whisper. 

Gladio frowned. “Y, yeah?” he still tried, though, as if he were smiling. He ran his fingers down his hair, scratched his head. “Too bad. Just…just give me a call, yeah? Let me know when youʼre free. I…want to talk to you.” Even though he still didnʼt know what to say… 

“ _Iʼll message you._ ”

“Okay.” Gladio nodded. When Iris looked up to see him, she beamed and waved her arms. He smiled and waved back. “Take care, then.”

“ _You, too._ ” She hung up. 

Why didnʼt he say he loved her? 

Gladio groaned, hitting his head on the window. What was wrong with him? He didnʼt used to be like this. Even when he did his duty before, his life wasnʼt falling apart around him. 

Or…what if his father was right all along? What if he hadnʼt been performing his duty all this time? That he was just good at pretending to do it until his father caught wind of it and decided to set things right, set him straight? Something was happening in the Citadel. As a part of the kingʼs council, there was no way his father wouldnʼt have felt it. That was probably when he discovered that his heir wasnʼt doing nearly enough. And Gladio had no one to blame but himself for being too blinded by his selfishness and his vanity. 

He padded to his work desk pressed up to the wall across his bed and grabbed his trousers from the chair. Even that was a mess—full of coins, receipts, transit cards because he kept losing one and then it kept popping back up again… 

That picture of his and Ignis taken on the last New Yearʼs Eve. A small one in a tiny frame, easy to hide, with him on the left side pressing a wet kiss on Ignisʼ cheek and Ignis caught between laughing and surprise, donning a pair of fancy glittery glasses with the new year on them. Heʼd been happy, then… 

He tossed it in a drawer and shoved it shut. Put on his trousers and left the room. He had a long day today and he better ask Gilgamesh for the strength to face it.

—

“Hey, you done there yet?”

Noctis pushed the door shut behind him. Gladio looked over his shoulder to catch him stretching his arms, heading back to his side of the room. Heʼd excused himself to use the bathroom and Gladio had taken the opportunity to check his phone. Still no message from Jessie. Heʼd just sent one to her, asking her how she was, when the prince had returned from his break. Gladio had never done this before—even when Iris was in the hospital for food poisoning, he never checked his phone for as long as he was in training with Noctis. That was his duty. 

“Took you long enough,” Gladio spat back, following after his prince. “Was starting to think you bailed out on me.”

“Canʼt, I left my stuff here.” They picked up their swords and shields from the floor and took their places, again. “You got another date tonight, though?” Unfortunately no. 

Gladio snorted, half-grinning at Noctis. “What? You hoping Iʼll let you out easy tonight? Lucky for you, youʼve got me 100% today.”

“Lucky me indeed,” Noctis echoed blandly. 

They counted to three in silence. 

Blades struck with angry cracks the moment they met in the middle of the room. Noctis was the first to give and pull back into the defensive while Gladio pummeled at him with his superior strength and height. 

“Youʼve lost your touch!” Gladio growled, tossing away Noctisʼ slash with an easy flick of his wrist and charging at the prince who jumped sideways. “This is what you get for missing practice last night!”

“Ignis told you that?” Noctis grunted, barely missing a dive from his trainer. 

“Donʼt need him to tell me, I can see it with your lopsided strikes. Focus, Noct!” Gladio was focusing all his being into this session. If there was anything he loved about fighting, it was how it took all of him and left nothing for other trivialities—the polish of the wood, the pain on his side where his father kicked him, his failed relationships. 

Gladio threw an upward cut but caught only Noctisʼ shield. Noctis pressed on with a large cry and slammed his shield onto Gladioʼs open front. He went down like a rock, leaving him open for Noctis to straddle him and aim for his neck. 

He slammed his shield onto the prince, sweeping him clean off his front. Noctis had only enough breath to crack out a curse word before he landed on the floor and rolled off to the sides. Gladio drew in great breaths. That was close. Had he almost let Noctis best him? And he thought he was the one focusing here… 

Gladio raised himself up to sit then, turning to see Noctis rolling to his back, catching his own breath. What a sight. What a sight indeed. 

“You,” Gladio coughed, the prelude to a deep laughter. “You just gave me a run for my money, didnʼt you?”

Noctisʼ chest was bouncing with his own chuckling. He coughed into his fist but nothing would have wiped the silly-looking grin off his face. “Hey, Gladio. Thought you were focusing?” 

“Eat shit.” Gladio swiped at him with a long leg but missed when Noctis pulled himself away from his foot. “What? Think you got what it takes to beat me now?”

“Whoʼs scared to find out?” Noctis coughed again, harder this time. But before Gladio could express concern, he pulled himself up to his feet and dusted his trainers. 

“Cʼmon,” Noctis egged him on, picking up his weapons. “I was just getting warmed up.” Well. How could he say no to that cockiness? This was a rare opportunity, a _golden_ opportunity he would be an ass to miss. Gladio may be an ass in literally every other aspect of his life now but not this. And hopefully that meant he wasnʼt an ass on being the Shield of the King. Yet. 

But if Noctis could still keep up with him, he should still be okay, right? Gladio himself was hesitant to lose progress. 

He got up after him, weapons still in hand. He weighed them, though, glancing at the prince across the room coughing into his shield but otherwise ready to go. 

“You know what?” he began, moving to the row of cabinets along the wall. “Let’s spice things up a little. Youʼre getting good at using both sword and shield but not everyoneʼs going to face you on equal footing.” So he stored both armaments into their proper shelves. 

And pulled out a glaive in their stead, his preferred weapon. His comfort weapon as it were. Gladio hefted it onto his shoulder, marching slowly up to Noctis just to let him size up the new challenge. Even when it was made of wood, if it was wielded by his hand, he could turn it into a real danger. And it felt good knowing that he still had that. “Some people,” he went on, “are going to take every advantage they could have on you.”

“Hey, thatʼs not fair!” Noctis spat. “Thatʼs like a sword and a shield and a spear, all rolled into one!” Even when he wielded it, he could never best Gladio at it. 

“Well, life isnʼt fair but you gotta do what you gotta do to win in it!” A rhetoric for himself? Gladio stretched his back and crouched low to prepare his muscles. He braced himself, planting his feet firmly on the polished floor. “Let’s go!” 

Noctis spun his blade once and bared his teeth at Gladio. He didnʼt go. 

Good, Gladio thought. He was being on the defensive, waiting to see what terrors this new challenge could bring him. In quick, great strides, Gladio was upon him, swinging his weapon down. Noctis dodged and rolled forward, regaining the space Gladio had stolen from him and breaking Gladioʼs slash momentum so that the one that landed on his shield was weaker than his initial attack. Good! 

Still quite a blow to cause Noctis to flinch and stumble back, though. A couple more of that and he would be in no position to beat Gladio. 

“Give it all you got, Noct! I wonʼt hold back either.” If Noctis was raring to go, then Gladio was waiting for him to prove it. 

“If thatʼs what you want,” Noctis snarled. He gave out a cry of his own when he finally charged at Gladio, landing a sharp cut on his blocking glaive and then pulling up his shield when Gladio retaliated. He brought his glaive up to spin overhead while he finished the distance between him and Noctis, practically ensuring himself that Noctis would take the swing. 

Unless he phased through Gladio and landed safely on his knees behind him—which he did. He drew first blood with a sharp smack of his sword on his leg. Noctis was really giving it his all now. Huh! Color him impressed. 

Gladio drew second immediately after when he swept at Noctis with his blade. Heʼd barely blocked it with his shield and had landed painfully on his back. He gave him no chance to breathe. 

He forced Noctis into the defensive, pummeling at him, swinging at him, keeping him away from any short-ranged advantages with the reach of his sword until Noctis found the opportunity to phase through again and pour his offensives in quick bursts. It was a good pattern that even Gladio had to admire but he needed to teach Noctis to be flexible. To adjust as the battle demanded. Whatever came at the prince from the Citadel, from beyond the Wall, wherever—he had to be ready to face it head on. And Gladio would be there to make sure of it. 

So he began to meet offense with offense. Gladio was tough, he could take a few beatings here and there but Noctis, with his slimmer bones and smaller frame and heavy weapons, did not have the same advantage. Except for phasing, he was practically grasping at straws. 

Before Gladio knew it, heʼd let go of the shield and relied completely on his phasing and the sturdiness of his blade to block and parry—not exactly what Gladio had hoped to happen but he could see Noctisʼ point. He had to focus on as little things as possible to cover as much ground as his meager powers could. 

He didnʼt deny him that—that was good thinking. They must have been at it for another half hour—slashing and smashing, blocking and counter-attacking, rolling and dodging. Noctis was slowly chipping at Gladioʼs defenses and endurance but heʼll need a little more than that to save his skin. Heʼll need a great advantage, one such that Gladio could never adapt to. 

After rolling away from the slam of Gladioʼs glaive, Noctis pitched his sword to the top wall—and warped. Oh, that was a good one. Gladio whirled, chasing Noctisʼ afterimage while he racked his brain on how he could best that one. Except the walls were not made of paper, and wood could hardly pierce stone. 

Gladio blanched when it occurred to him what Noctis had done. That was a terrible mistake. Sword met wall, wall deflected it like a toy. Noctis noticed too late his error, flickered in mid-air and then fell. Towards the bookshelf. Gladio started running. If he didnʼt control his drop, he was going to—

Noctis spun at the last second to right himself before his left foot met the bookshelf. He cried in pain, faltering again. 

“ _Noct!_ ”

Noctis landed heavily onto Gladioʼs arms. He pulled the prince towards him, pressing him to his chest as he took a step back to balance his momentum. Noctis cried again. 

“Noct! You okay?” Gladio gasped. Gods above, that could have killed Noctis. 

Noctis squirmed, face crumpled tight in discomfort. “Not if you squeeze me like that, I canʼt breathe!” Well, he seemed to be okay enough to still be a whiny punk. 

Gladio hurried him to one of the benches between the suits of armor, sitting him down carefully with a grunt. “Donʼt move your foot.” Noctis was still wincing, teeth gritted, fingers digging into the cushion when he left him for the cabinets in search of the curatives they kept around for exactly these occasions. He grabbed two Hi-Potions as soon as heʼd found them, then hurried back to Noctis. 

“Hey, be careful with that!” Noctis snapped when Gladio carried his left foot to his thigh to loosen up the laces of his training shoes. He secured one hand around his calf and another on the heel of his shoes. 

“This is gonna hurt like a mother,” was Gladioʼs only warning before he pulled the shoe free. Noctis yowled in pain, stomping with his better foot. Better than being kicked, he thought, while he moved swiftly to pull off the sock next. Noctis cursed him for that, writhing again. 

“Hey, hey, hey, stop moving!” he growled, pulling up Noctisʼ pants to assess the damage. Already, his ankle was swollen, one side of it starting to turn a deep shade of purple. He hissed. “Oh, this looks ugly.”

“Huh?” Noctis leaned over to inspect his injury. “Oh, ew.” 

“Coward, you canʼt even take the look of your own foot?” Gladio snorted, shaking his head. It looked ugly but it was still the best scenario they could both ask for. Better than what _almost_ might have happened. Gladio shuddered at the thought of it again. If Noctis hadnʼt had the sense to save himself, if heʼd been one step too slow…

“Hold still,” he said, picking up a Hi-Potion to crack it open next to the exposed foot. Blue liquid shimmered as it flowed out through the shattered bottle, dissipating into the air like ribbons of light lacing around the battered foot. Noctis let out a whistle in relief. When Gladio opened his hand, even the flask had gone with the light. Lucian magic really was something. And eco-friendly at that. 

Gladio tested its effectivity, pressing gently at the yellow-green patch on Noctisʼ foot. The response was a hiss and a jumping knee. Gladio pulled back quickly and apologized. “Sorry!”

“Hey, not too hard!” Noctis scowled, carrying his foot to the cushion, away from harm. “You wanna break it again or something?” He poked at the discoloration. “Oh, actually it _is_ better now.”

Gladio rolled his eyes. “You’re welcome,” he muttered, parking his right palm on his knee. “You really scared me there, though. For a second there, I thought of the worst.”

“Huh.” Noctis looked up to Gladio. “That bad? Guess I better be more careful, huh?” How could he be so carefree about this? He was Prince, he was going to be King! 

“Damn right, you should be!” Gladio spat, pushing himself up to his feet. Well, it was like they said: whatever the king couldnʼt do, the Shield had to. If the king couldnʼt worry, then it was up to the Shield to do it. 

Some Shield he was, putting his future king in a dangerous situation like that just because he was careless with his guidance and his lessons. Noctis shouldnʼt have been driven to make that mistake if he hadnʼt pushed him too hard. He only wanted him to be tough enough to face his challenges but…

“Still, I canʼt be entirely blameless. Youʼre my responsibility, after all. Maybe I overdid it…” Gladio scratched his head. “Sorry about that.” But what was the use of pushing his prince to be stronger if he was going to push him to his end? 

“Huh? Hey…” Noctis put down his bad foot to rest his elbows on his knees. “That doesnʼt sound like you at all.” Gladio didnʼt even know what he sounded like anymore. The one thing he thought he was still good at and this happens. What else was left of him? 

Gladio smirked. “What? Surprised I actually care about you?” If anything were to happen to Noct because of him, he would never be able to forgive himself. 

“Um,” Noctis raised his brow, “yeah, ‘cause that was totally what I was thinking.” Well, whatever it was he was really thinking, Gladio didnʼt want to hear it. 

“Let’s call it a day.” Gladio gestured to his foot. “You gotta let that rest while itʼs still healing. Iʼll call Ignis to come pick you up.”

“Do I get tomorrow off?” Another day missed… 

Not like Gladio had much of a choice. Damned if he did, damned if he didnʼt. “Well, I wouldnʼt want you getting into another accident because of me, right?”

—

Another day missed, another day wasted. Gods, what was he going to do now? If his father ever found out what had happened, what heʼd done, he was going to be in for it. That was for sure. Not good enough to be a Shield, canʼt even do a good job as a training mentor. Canʼt be a good brother to protect his sister, canʼt be a good boyfriend in a relationship…

Four hours later, Jessie never replied. He should try again. Gladio knew he should try again but…but for what? To be rejected again? To try and fail again? It was tiring. Just now, he realized how tiring it was to keep losing. 

He didnʼt meet Ignis when he came to pick Noctis up. Instead, he went off to the central station and hopped onto the earliest train to arrive. He didnʼt know where he was going but he just…he just didnʼt want to go home yet. He didnʼt want to face another failure and he didnʼt want to do it alone. 

At some station, he got off, ate a quick bowl of noodles, then searched for someone in his phone to talk to. He put it on his ear, waiting for the ringing to stop. 

“ _Gladio._ ” Of course. Of course it had to be Ignis. Gods, Gladio was going to be the death of himself. “ _You called again._ ”

“Yeah, um…” Gladio scratched his head, speaking quietly. “I…are you…howʼs Noct?” He dipped forward to press his forehead to his hand. 

“ _Heʼs fine. Heʼll be fine. Noct told me what happened. I Ieft him with a supply of curatives and some food._ ”

“Good to hear.” Gladio nodded. “Where are you right now?”

A long pause. “ _Why?_ ”

Gladio frowned bitterly at his empty bowl of noodles. “Can I come over?” he whispered. Gods, did he hear himself right? 

“ _No,_ ” Ignis answered. 

Gladio closed his eyes. He waited for Ignis to say something more but heard nothing else. So that was that. “Okay,” he said, clearing his throat. He hung up. 

Practically tossed his phone to the table while he rubbed his hands over his face, groaning. Now what? Nowhere to go, no one he could turn to…

—

Loud music, colorful lights, a cold beer in hand. Times like this, Gladio was grateful for the extensive network of acquaintances heʼd made along the way through the friends of some friends of a friend. The bartender heʼd called in on and his cramped 8-seater bar were two such lucky discoveries, and unlike many of Gladioʼs closer relations, he was more than happy to come in a clutch. And to receive Gladioʼs generous patronage but that came part and parcel of his visit.

Another empty bottle hit the faded wooden counter. A snap of his fingers and a fresh bottle would come to his rescue, along with a new plate of nuts. 

“Man, Gladio,” his friend groaned, leaning over the bar across him. “Thanks to you, I might finally have enough to pay the rent.”

“Hm? Landlord giving you problems?” Gladio set down his beer to pop in some nuts. 

“When has he never?” the bartender scratched his head from under his blue bandana, face twisted by his plight. “Rent is cheap compared to the others but he shits all over us refugees. All the money Iʼd set aside went to his damn association dues and housekeeping bill. I donʼt even know what the hell those are!”

“Hey,” Gladio frowned, lifting his bottle again, “thatʼs a crime against the Crown.” Easier said than done. Despite his affiliation to the royalty, Gladio wasnʼt blind to the Crown Cityʼs general perception of the refugees whoʼd lost their land in the war and had come crowding over, seeking shelter and a life. And that included those employed by the Citadel to ensure that every Lucian residing within Insomniaʼs ramparts got a fair share of its boon. 

“Yeah? Certainly sounds like itʼs the least of the Crownʼs problems, though,” his friend sighed, head hung low. “Whatever. Hey listen, I wasnʼt criticizing the king, okay? And Iʼm not asking for the Crownsguardʼs intercession either.”

Gladio shook his head and waved his bottle, dismissing his concerns. Some people might cry treason but not him. 

“I was just sharing, thatʼs all.” He gestured to Gladioʼs drink. “In fact, Iʼm really grateful for your presence here tonight. I donʼt know how youʼre gonna make it home with all that alcohol you just drank,” he tossed his hand at Gladio who laughed, “but Iʼll leave that up to you. The moneyʼs good, though. I like your money.”

“Well,” Gladio tilted his beer to his friend, “I like your drinks. _And_ the weekend discount.” The bartender cackled then snorted, waving the compliments away. “Hey, get me another one of those girly drinks! The one with the lady pepper or something.”

“ _Leiden_ Pepper! Lady Pepperʼs what I call the drink.” His friend straightened up and crossed his arms over his chest. “Havenʼt you had too much of that already?”

“Just two.”

“Thatʼs still one too many!” He swept an arm over his empty bar. “On top of all the other girly drinks and beer and whatever else it was you knocked back over the past two hours!” Heʼs been here for two hours already? “I know youʼre from some big shot family but Iʼm telling you, Amicitia, the train holds nothing sacred. And if you get caught drunk in there, your life is over.” Oh for sure. 

Gladio snorted, wiping that concern off the air. He was maybe feeling the effects of the alcohol in his face but heʼd always had a hardy liver for them. “Thatʼs not your problem. Your problem is to get me that Lady Pepper now.” He jabbed his finger lightly on the counter. 

His friend shrugged, hands thrown high. “Donʼt say I didnʼt warn ya,” was his last advice before he turned around to work on that new order. And for that, Gladioʼs appreciation for the guy increased ten-folds. At least someone out here still let him do his thing. 

“Good man!” Gladio cried, flashing him a smile just as his phone started vibrating near his elbow. Finally! Heʼd been waiting for a call or a message, wasnʼt he? He checked the screen alight with a familiar face and name. He laughed suddenly, picking it up. 

“Whatʼs that?” 

“Itʼs my ex,” Gladio shared happily as he pressed his phone to his ear. “Iggy! What a surprise. To what do I owe the pleasure?” This time, at least, he was inebriated enough to take on his senseless yearning for the man. 

“ _...Gladio, are you drunk?_ ”

“A bit.” Gladio shrugged. “Not nearly enough if you ask me. Whyʼd you call? Is Noct okay?” He waved his thanks for his girly drink, coming on a clean paper coaster with a cute umbrella piercing a roll of pepper. 

Ignis sighed heavily from across the line. “ _Yes, Noctʼs okay. You, on the other hand…after leaving me a call like that, what did you expect me to think?_ ”

“Should have just ignored it.” In Gladioʼs defense, he had no intention to guilt trip Ignis, he really was just looking for someone to talk to. 

“ _You really think Iʼm capable of doing that?_ ” he groaned. Oh right—this was Ignis they were talking about. “ _Where are you?_ ”

“Iʼm uh…” Gladio searched the bar for the neon light sign. “ _Ravenʼs Nest._ Like _Crowʼs Nest_ but for drinking. Do you know that place?” Ignis was quiet. 

“ _Yes, I found it. Iʼll be there in 15 minutes._ ”

Gladio grinned. “Great! I need a ride.”

“ _Then consider me at your service. Iʼm hanging up. Iʼm about to drive._ ” So he did.

“ _Ex?_ ” his friend spat as soon as Gladio closed the call. He leaned over, hands along the sides of his bar. “Thatʼs the way you talk to your _ex_? Could have told me he was your crush and I wouldnʼt have known the difference!”

“Get off my hair, jerk.” Gladio pitched a nut at him. 

Fifteen minutes later, Ignis appeared at the door, just as heʼd promised. The bartender had been the first one to welcome him while he was wiping down one of the two 2-seater tables on each side of the wall. Gladio had turned then to catch him nodding politely at his friend. He beamed at his familiar presence. 

“Iggy!!” Shouting was absolutely unnecessary, of course—he was the only customer in that tiny room and even without waving, even without the specs, Ignis would have spotted his hulking figure in a heartbeat. Ignis sighed, pushing back his glasses. Good to know he was still a disappointment. 

“Care for a drink?” Gladio raised his fist at his friend. 

“If youʼre buying,” Ignis accepted, knocking on that fist while the other hand loosened the button on his blazer. He ordered a mocktail just as he sat down, slipped off his right glove to enjoy his plate of nuts. “So whatʼs the occasion?”

“No occasion,” Gladio admitted, picking up his girly drink. “Just…itʼs just been a day. How was yours?” He glanced at Ignis. 

“Long,” Ignis replied, thanking the bartender for his drink and taking a sip from it. “Meetings. Baking class. Noct. Dinner with my uncle.”

“You managed to have breakfast, though?”

Ignis smiled at Gladio. “I did. Thank you.” He shifted a little on his stool so he could prop his elbow on the bar, his jaw on his fist. “And you? Shall we talk about your day now?”

Gladio snorted, grinning at his glass. “Was just trying to be polite.” He finished his drink, set it down and went to work on his plate of nuts. He chewed pensively while he toyed with the crumbs on the wooden bar… 

“Think Jessie just broke up with me,” he finally said, the weight of the truth tempering his tone. “I called this morning to ask her out for lunch but she said she was busy. Then she never left me a message.”

“What happened?” Ignis asked. Amazing, he was really talking to his ex about this, wasnʼt he? 

Gladio shook his head, frowning tightly at the old bar counter and the crumbs he was playing with. “Nothing.”

“So what _didnʼt_ happen?” Count on Ignis to ask the right questions. 

Gladio flicked at the crumbs, then gathered them again. He chuckled. “Where do I start?” he whispered. Ignis offered no advice. “Us? Her seeing…something worth it in me? She said sometimes, it feels like Iʼm not there with her. Like…” He swept his hand across the bar and back to him. “Like thereʼs something between us…and Iʼm the reason why itʼs there. But…Ignis,” he looked at his ex watching him closely, “when you and I…when it was us…”

“Did I ever feel like you were excluding me from something?” Ignis finished for him. Gladio nodded. “No.” He shook his head. “I would have found out. And I would have forced you about it. You know me.”

Gladio smirked, nodding slightly again. Well. He _was_ Ignis, all right. 

“But as to whether or not you made me feel that I must force you to open up with me,” Ignis looked away, readjusting his glasses, “I never did. During my time with you, I always felt you close to me.” He turned back to Gladio. “Whether or not we were separated by secrecy, by duty, you were always…so near me, I hardly felt alone.”

Gladio frowned. Jessie should have felt that way, too, but that wasnʼt what he did. And the worst part was…he knew why. The reason was sitting right next to him. And he couldnʼt regret it. 

Ignisʼ eyes fell to his colorful glass. He raised it to his lips. “Does that enlighten you a little?”

Gladio smirked, watching him drink. “Dʼyou still call it an enlightenment when I think Iʼve always known? Just didnʼt have the balls to admit it myself. I still donʼt.” Ignis might have hit his glass a little too hard on the bar. The tension was clear on his jawline. Funny for Gladio, all that did nothing to him. 

Ignis turned to him, brows furrowed tight, but kept his eyes low, away from Gladioʼs line of vision. “You need to tell her.”

“What?”

Ignis shrugged, facing him now. “Whatever you have to. Your decision. Your life story.” Gladio snorted, shaking his head with a shallow grin. “Gladio, she deserves her own peace of mind.”

“So I should just give up?” Gladio countered Ignis meeting him in the eye. “That what youʼre tellinʼ me?”

“That wasnʼt your only option.”

“You think if I told her about…” He pressed his hands to his chest. “About me. Iris, my dad, Noct…Iʼd be sitting here, getting lectured by my ex to get it together?”

Ignis frowned. “Why wonʼt you?”

Because that wasnʼt the point of this relationship. If Gladio was just going to turn her into another Ignis, who knew close to everything about his life, then he shouldnʼt have pursued this in the first place. Jessie deserved more than that—a life free from the hardships of serving the Crown. And at the same time… 

His eyes had wandered down to Ignisʼ glove. “Her fingers are smooth,” he said, voice quiet. 

“Isnʼt that good?” Ignis replied with equal softness. It _was_ good. Her fingers felt nice on his skin. So dainty, so lovely and perfect. But… 

But Ignisʼ hands…no matter how much he protected them with his gloves, theyʼd grown rough with his responsibilities. Training with the daggers, and then the spear. And then cooking, baking, doing nearly everything for the crown prince, all that was bound to leave their marks on his fingers. 

And he loved these imperfections. Every single one of them and what they told him of Ignis. How he knew which scar was when he caught the dagger wrong, when he sat in a meeting with a bloodied handkerchief for an hour because of some stupid papercut. When his little finger had touched the hot pan on accident, which bone clicked from when Gladio had broken his finger as they were sparring. So much stories, so much history about the man he once dated. He would often kiss them, press them to his cheek. Let them pull his hair when they were making love. 

Those long, strong fingers of his…now distant, no matter how much Ignis had given him them. And whose fault was it? 

Ignis finished his drink. He got up, then, clapping Gladio at the back. “Time to go.”

“Weʼre going home?” Gladio whirled at him, a little stunned. It was still too early for him. 

“I have a meeting at 8 tomorrow morning and you need a ride.” Ignis waved his thanks to the bartender. “Havenʼt you had nearly enough, Gladio?” He turned to look at him. 

Well, the fact that he still wasnʼt so plastered to forget all about his mistakes told him no, there wasnʼt enough alcohol in him yet. But he needed that ride. And he wanted to spend more time with his ex. 

Gladio chuckled, reaching back to his money clip. “Nothing I do these days is nearly enough, Ignis.”

He left a hefty tip along with their entire bill, waving goodbye as he followed Ignis out to his car. His fat backpack, he tossed to the backseat while he squeezed in next to Ignis, pushing the chair back for some much-needed legroom. 

“‘sit hard to drive?” Gladio asked all of a sudden while Ignis released the car to reverse. 

“That depends on you.” Ignis twisted himself while he backed up the car. “If youʼre still affected by your and your motherʼs car accident, though, I would advise against getting behind the wheel.” He shifted on his seat again and manned the lever to drive forward. 

“If I ever get over the trauma, will you teach me?”

Ignis nodded, eyes on the road. “I can certainly offer my assistance.”

Gladio nodded. He looked out the window, at those street lights lining up the narrow road, illuminating shuttered stores and closed gates. Hardly anyone was out at that hour except for the guy riding a bicycle and turning down an alley. Huh. So maybe it really _was_ late… 

“What did Noct say about this afternoon?”

“It was an accident,” Ignis answered. “You were sparring, heʼd warped with the wrong weapon. I think he was disappointed that he couldnʼt finish a cool move.” Gladio laughed. That does sound like a proper Noctis. “He told me he nearly landed on his nose if you hadnʼt caught him. But then you almost cracked his ribs.”

“Heʼs such a vain idiot, isnʼt he?” Gladio grinned. 

“Thatʼs our Noct for us,” Ignis agreed. He could hear the fondness in his voice. 

When Gladio turned to Ignis, he was still smiling. He missed that smile… 

“I assume there wonʼt be any training tomorrow?” Oh right, there was a reason why he didnʼt want to go home yet. 

Gladio sighed heavily, running his hand over his hair. 

“Gladio?”

“What do I tell my dad, Ignis?” The question surprised even Gladio but all that drinking must have thrown his inhibitions out the window. So heʼs had at least enough alcohol for that. “If he finds out what I did, heʼll really give it to me.”

“It was an accident, Gladio,” Ignis said as if to remind him but to Gladio, that wasnʼt the truth. “Surely even Master Clarus must understand that.”

“Wouldnʼt be an accident if Iʼd been more careful.” Gladio shrugged. “I pushed Noct too much—”

“You only wanted what was best for him.”

“—and I almost killed him for that,” he pressed on, ignoring how Ignis had jumped at his choice of words. “Noct was lucky I caught him before he cracked his head on the floor. But what sort of Shield doesnʼt take care of his future king, all for the sake of muscle? If Iʼd been more careful, none of this would be happening.”

The traffic lights flashed red. The road was empty, but Ignis stopped at the intersection. 

Gladio sighed loudly, rubbing his hands over his face. What a life. Nothing went right for him, anymore, everything was going wrong… 

“Thank you, Gladio.”

“Huh?” Gladio whirled to Ignis in surprise, hands still on his face. Ignis was still facing the road. “The hellʼs that for?”

“For saving Noct,” Ignis added, now looking at him. “If you hadnʼt been there, Noct would have been in a worse state by now.”

“If I hadnʼt been there, Noct wouldnʼt have been endangered in the first place.”

“Are you so blinded by your self-loathing that you will no longer receive gratitude?” Self-loathing. So is that what this is? 

Yeah. He sure hated how inadequate he was. Canʼt even measure up to nearly anything. “I just,” Gladio sighed, dropping his hands. Frowning at them. “I just wish I could be a better man, you know? Stronger, smarter. For Noct, for you. Noct deserves a better Shield than me, you…” He turned away. “You deserved someone better than me. Iʼm sorry I hurt you.”

The lights turned green. Ignis drove on. 

Silence passed between them, Ignis driving, Gladio looking out to the darkened streets, illuminated only by lamp posts and empty convenience stores. He checked his phone for any messages. A full day later and Jessie still hadnʼt left him any. 

And then they were home—well, he was. Time to face the dragon. Gladio exhaled heavily while he bounced a light fist on his friendʼs shoulder. “Well, thanks for the lift. Wish me luck.” He unlocked the door. 

“Gladio.”

“Hm?” Gladio stopped from opening it, turning back to Ignis pushing his glasses up. “Whatʼs up?”

Ignis rested his hands on the wheel again, eyes narrowed by thought. “I know what you can do. Iʼve seen it.” He turned finally to Gladio as he said to him, “I know what Gladiolus Amicitia is capable of.”

Gladio raised his brow at Ignisʼ faith. “Yeah? Well some Amicitia he is, this Gladiolus guy. Wish Iʼd never met ‘im.”

“We must be talking about a different person, then.” Ignis smirked. “Look for a man greatly devoted to his duties and those he loves. When you see him, tell him Ignis Scientia says hi, and that heʼs waiting for him.”

Gladio laughed. He didnʼt expect to hear that brand of encouragement to come from his ex, of all people. “Some ex you are,” he cackled, grinning. “Well, least one of us still believes in me.” He raised his fist and bumped it onto Ignisʼ. “Thanks for the pep talk, Ignis. And thanks for being here tonight.”

“I wouldnʼt be here if I didnʼt still care about you, Gladio.”

So…was that it? Somehow, heʼd always known. But still, hearing it out loud, from the man himself…

He might have jumped. He knew his heart was thumping loudly in his chest, that his face was burning…all signs of alcoholic intoxication. Or maybe this _was_ just the beer bottles talking. 

Maybe when he wanted to hold his hand, and lean over to kiss Ignis, that was just the girly drinks talking. To run his own lips against Ignisʼ soft ones, to touch his face so he could kiss him again—

Gladio smiled abruptly and opened the door. Not yet. Not yet—not like this. Ignis deserved better. 

Ignis smiled back while he reached for his bag at the back and shut the door after him. 

He leaned down and waved. Ignis offered him a little salute before he drove away. 

Inside his house, the dragon waited in the lobby, standing next to their chamberlain, Jared. He was still dressed in his council clothes, and he had a coat slung over one arm and a bag in his other hand. He was leaving… 

Gladio inhaled deeply, schooling any expressions off his face. “Dad,” he called to him—was his voice too loud?—keeping things normal as he approached. If Clarus was leaving…surely he wouldnʼt have time to ask about Noctis? “Going somewhere?”

Clarus turned to him and sighed. “Gladiolus, there you are.” He started for his son. Gladio almost stiffened. “Yes. Itʼs work. And I wonʼt be back until the day after tomorrow.” 

“That long?” Gladio stopped, eyes falling to his bag again. “Where are you going?” Ignis said the Citadel was shaking up. 

“Like I said, itʼs work,” Clarus said, raising a hand to clap his son on his shoulder. “I leave you and Jared in charge of the house.”

“Yes, Dad.”

“Have you been drinking?”

Clarus kept his voice low, but it was cold and already ripe with disappointment. Gladio stilled his breath, hand tightening around the arm of his pack. 

“Not enough to get drunk,” he answered, voice quiet. Softer than the blood pulsing in his ears. Was that a good answer? Did he speak wrong? Was he safe…?

The second lasted too long. Clarus exhaled as though he was about to breathe fire… 

“Jared, Iʼll be off.”

“Take care, Master Amicitia.”

Clarus left, then, and pulled the door shut behind him. The echo caused Gladio to jump, heart pounding rapidly in his chest. He felt nauseated; closed his eyes, took deep breaths…safe. Safe for now. Heʼd survived… 

“Master Gladiolus? Is anything wrong?”

Gladio forced his eyes open and put on a smile, shaking his head. He needed to get out of here. “Nah, just…just tired. Been a long day.”

“I can fix you up some chamomile tea to relax you,” Jared offered kindly. This was one of those times he certainly was glad for the manʼs unquestioning obedience. 

“Sounds great,” Gladio accepted. He clapped him lightly on the back as he approached the bowing chamberlain. “Thanks, Jared. Iris?”

“Already asleep. I must apologize,” he bowed again, “my grandson Talcott tired her out with his incessant questions.”

Gladio laughed. “Donʼt apologize, Iʼm sure Iris enjoyed it! Talcottʼs a smart kid. But you better be careful Iris doesnʼt spoil him rotten, though.” He warned his chamberlain with a finger and a smile. Jared bowed as he started up to his room. About time… 

“Understood. Iʼll get the tea steeping.”


	4. Chapter 4

“ _How are you feeling this morning?_ ” Ignisʼ voice was hardly the first thing he expected to hear, and maybe he ought to be thrilled by this continued communication with his ex except after a heavy and dreamless slumber, the act of talking was not exactly how Gladio planned to start the day. 

So Gladioʼs response came in the form of an indecipherable hybrid of a mumble and a murmur, phone on ear, arm over his eyes. 

Ignis sighed. “ _I take it you didnʼt hydrate or leave yourself some water on the bedside table before you slept._ ”

“Had tea.”

“ _How refreshing._ ”

“You cominʼ over?” Not a question he normally asked his exes but Gladio wasnʼt in any position to think straight right now. 

“ _I have another meeting in five minutes so youʼre going to have to deal on your own for now. I only called to check in on you quickly._ ”

“Iʼm touched,” Gladio groaned. “How was the meeting?”

“ _They served us coffee._ ”

Gladio laughed. 

“ _Well, I ought to be off now. Will you be coming in later?_ ”

“Well, Noct isnʼt training today so no. Itʼs officially my day off.”

“ _A weekend day off. Lucky you. Keep well, then, Gladio. Iʼll see you when I do._ ”

“See you around, Ignis.” 

They hung up. 

“Ah shit,” Gladio hissed, smacking his forehead with the corner of his phone. He forgot to tell him his father wouldnʼt be home for the day—which meant something could be going on in the Citadel again. 

He left him a message, and waited for his reply. Ignis answered with a simple, “OK” after twenty minutes. Probably did it under the table during his meeting.

After that, after all that waiting and checking if his ex had seen his message and replied, there was no way Gladio could go back to sleep. Despite the waterlogged weight in his head, his dry mouth and the weariness on his bones. Dehydration was such a bitch. 

He laid sprawled out on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Later on, he checked his phone, browsing his notifications. Jessie still hadnʼt reached out. He couldnʼt blame her. But gods, theyʼll have to talk. Heʼll have to tell her… 

“Gladdy?” Three knocks on the door. “Are you awake?” It was Iris. 

He was always happy to have his sister, of course. After putting on some pants, he opened the door and was rewarded for waking up with a cold glass of tea and piping hot Cup Noodles. While he ate his championʼs breakfast, Iris went around setting his room right. 

“Leave that for the help,” Gladio told her, mouth full of noodles, but Iris was still folding his clothes from last night, piling them up neatly on his chair, where he always left his pants. “Iris,” he sang her name. 

“Iʼll be done in a minute,” was Irisʼ promise, collecting all his transit cards to stack them up neatly. “Huh?” She stopped suddenly, inspecting his desktop. “Whereʼs Iggy?” Iggy… 

“Ignisʼ picture?” Well, what else could it be? 

He finished up the broth, washed it down with his glass of tea. Much better. Iris searched under all his things. He let her. She pulled open all his drawers until:

“Iggy!”

There it was, the new yearʼs photo where Gladio had been happy. Something so painful, he had to tuck it away but now… 

When Iris carried it with her to his bed, Gladio looked at it, too. Suddenly, it didnʼt feel so distant anymore, this memory of good times. 

“Do you still see much of each other?” Iris asked him, kicking lightly with her feet. 

“Of course, we do,” Gladio chuckled. “Especially during Noctʼs training,” or after he called, asking for his ex. 

“Can I come along one time? I miss Iggy.”

“Iggy?” Gladio repeated. He raised his brow, smirking. “Or do you mean Noct?”

“Gladdyyy, stop that!” Gladio laughed when she pouted and elbowed him, puffing up her blushing cheeks. “I really mean it, though! I really miss Iggy.” Iris looked at the picture again. “I wish he could hang out with us again like he used to. We always had fun together, right?” They were always happy together… 

“Heʼs busy today,” Gladio said, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “But Iʼll give him a call, yeah?” Iris rejoiced, throwing her fists high. He wasnʼt sure how much more complicated this was going to make things but at the very least, he needed to call Jessie before that date with Ignis and Iris happened. 

That settles it. He was going to have to man up for his sister. 

“You doinʼ anythinʼ today?” he asked her. 

“Mmm…school practice!”

“All right.” Gladio ruffled her hair. Iris cried and giggled. “Practice well.” Looks like it was going to be a solo kind of day for him…

—

Much later that afternoon, Gladio received a surprise call.

“ _Yo._ ”

“Hey, Noct!” Gladio had been doing handstands in the garden when the call came through, keeping himself limber and fit after a night of pure binging. “Howʼs your foot?”

“ _Feels better. Caught you at a bad time?_ ” Gladio was still a little hard at breath from the exertion. 

“Caught me exercising like someone should.”

“ _Hey, Iʼm resting my foot, okay?_ ”

“Never heard of crunches or weightlifting?”

“ _Keep this up and I might just forget why I called you._ ”

“Which is?”

“ _Free tonight?_ ”

“Askinʼ me out on a date?”

“ _If youʼre okay with a threesome._ ”

Gladio guffawed. 

“ _Meet me at the lobby of my apartment at 7._ ”

“Hey, shouldnʼt you be resting? Howʼre your allergies?”

“ _Iʼm fine. Besides, walking is an exercise. See ya._ ” Noctis hung up. Typical prince. Well, Gladio had no choice but to see this through now, before he got up to something they might both regret… 

At 6:45 in the evening, Gladio took the train to Noctisʼ apartment and met up with the prince in the lobby, just as heʼd said. He was dressed to blend in with the trendy crowd, and looked like he could walk without pain from his injury. 

“Surprised Ignis would let you go out like this,” he said, looking around the lobby as Noctis led the way out. “Where is he, by the way?”

“Huh?” Noctis looked back. “Oh. Ignis isnʼt coming tonight. He went home with a migraine.” 

“So whoʼs the third person?” Gladio followed him round the corner, where there was an entrance leading down to the train station. Noctis didnʼt have a lot of friends, Gladio thought, and an even smaller network of people he was willing to hang out with. So if Ignis wasnʼt the third member of the party, that meant it was… 

“Hey, Prompto!”

Prompto Argentum was another one of those friends Gladio had made by way of a common friend. Hyperactive with itchy fingers and a perpetual music playing in his head, he was a character Gladio never thought would be among the princeʼs closest ring. 

But there he was, exchanging a complicated handshake with Noctis himself. After that, Prompto finally recognized him at the back with a cry. “Whoah, Gladio!! Itʼs been a while, huh?” Even the way he spoke sounded like he was singing to some rhythm that only made sense to him. 

“Hey, we picking up girls for Prompto tonight?” Gladio bumped fists with him, grinning. 

Prompto laughed in a way that Gladio could only call a nervous giggle. “I mean, you could always teach me some tips, Gladio!”

“Hey, hey, thatʼs not what we came out here for!” Noctis snapped. 

“Ahhh, I was just kidding!” Prompto offered him a peace sign. “Cʼmon, cʼmon, before the line gets long!!”

“Huh?” Gladio turned to Noctis with a questioning look. “What line?”

“Youʼll find out,” was all Noctis told him before he followed Prompto down to the subway line. That was a rare sight to behold—being heir apparent to the throne, it was hard for Noctis to move around much on his own. But if he had someone along with him—someone from the Crownsguard for instance… 

Ah. Now Gladio knew why he was here. 

They took a train leading out to the east side of Insomnia, the only time Prompto ever shut up although he was still swaying to his personal music and tapping his foot to the beat at that. They got off at the last station of the line, went up to the surface and lined up for some cheap beef bowl in a popular diner. Also a luxury for the crown prince. 

“Ahhh, itʼs too bad Ignis couldnʼt come,” Prompto lamented, hanging his head back, frowning deeply with his camera between his hands. Heʼd just finished taking a glamorous shot of his steaming bowl before he came to that realization. And if Gladio wasnʼt wrong, this might actually be the third camera heʼd seen this guy bring. “We canʼt take a proper group photo without him.”

“As if you could drag that guy into this place!” Gladio laughed, mixing the egg into his bowl. 

“I even brought my best camera to commemorate this outing.” Prompto sighed heavily. “I donʼt even know if I can post these pictures online where he can see what he missed.”

“Hey, donʼt worry about him,” was Gladioʼs confident reassurance while he reached over Noctis between them to clap the sulking Prompto on his back, just when the prince snorted and started laughing at his own private joke. “Just share what you wanna share. Heʼll deal. Whatʼs up, Noct?”

“You want Ignis in the picture?” he cackled, slipping out his phone from his sweater to load up his social network app. Ignisʼ profile came up in a few deft taps and swipes. 

And then they joined him in laughter, Gladio the loudest, as Noctis expanded Ignisʼ profile photo, which looked like it was taken from a studio or for a business magazine. “All right, get that camera ready, Prompto!”

“Okay, let me get this!”

They snapped a few poses while Noctis held up his phone with Ignisʼ straight-laced picture. The prince was crying by the end of it, stirring his beef bowl. Prompto must have spent a couple more minutes trying to catch his breath. 

It was a good laugh. Gladio couldnʼt remember the last time heʼd laughed that much, or Noctis for that matter. These days, he certainly felt like these moments were in such short supply… 

After a hasty but tasty dinner, the three of them were off again, following the map on Noctisʼ phone while Prompto alternated between leading the way, marching backwards, or chasing after them as though he was tripping when theyʼd gone too far without him. 

“Prompto, stay with the moment,” Gladio chastised him when heʼd reunited with them, inspecting the photos heʼd taken. “That camera more fun than the two of us?”

“Gladio, you just donʼt get it,” Prompto sighed with a click of his tongue and a corner smile. “Itʼs because youʼre both so fun to hang out with that I want to take a lot of pictures tonight!”

“Of _city lights_?” Prompto was right—he didnʼt get that part of the deal. 

“Yup!” Prompto nodded—or more like he bounced from head to feet. He looked around, inspecting the window of a store they just passed. “Memories come from all sorts of—hey, Noct, look!!”

“What?” Noctisʼ flat response was a stark contrast to Promptoʼs electrified cry. By the time heʼd turned to see what the fuss was about, Prompto had already stumbled into the store. “Hey, whatʼs that?”

“Hey, Prompto, I thought the lineʼs getting long?” Not that Gladio still knew what the line was for—and not that it still mattered to him, this was turning out to be a fun night—but well, he had to try. He followed after Noctis pocketing his phone. 

And then Noctis was ooh-ing and skating—it really looked like he was skating—to Promptoʼs side who was fishing for coins from his vest. “ _Kingʼs Knight_ phone straps! Good eye, Prompto!” 

“Hehe!” Prompto beamed at the compliment, full of pride. The store wasnʼt actually quite a store, so much as it was a plain room filled with capsule toy dispensers. Not quite Gladioʼs choice of obsession but he wasnʼt about to get in the way of both friendsʼ enjoyment.

Most especially not the crown princeʼs. Thinking about it, Gladio realized this was a side of Noctis he didnʼt often see. Training often saw the prince scowling or frustrated, lighting up literally only whenever he beat Gladio or stepped inside a tackle shop. And even then, he was nowhere near as giddy, as boyish as he was now, hounding over the machine while his friend cranked the dial until the coin fell through and the capsule rolled out. Looking at him this way, it was hard to see him as a future king who would one day lead a great kingdom—but damn if he didnʼt do everything to protect him! If he let any harm come to him in his watch…

For the sake of these simple joys, Gladio would gladly lay down his life for him. 

Prompto tripped backwards to his feet while he spun the plastic egg in his hands, raising it to the light while he searched for the toy within. Noctis took his turn to play the machine and grab his capsule. Prompto pumped his fists, hissing out in victory. “I got a Rare!”

“Huh?” Noctis searched his toy, frowning at it. “Ugh, why do I get this guy?!” Gladio laughed. 

“You win some, you lose some, Prince Noct,” Prompto snickered, spinning until he came face to face with Gladio chuckling by the doorway, arms across his chest. “Hey, Gladio! Donʼt you play _Kingʼs Knight_ , too?”

“Yeah, didnʼt you just follow him back?” Noctis had finally gotten up from the floor but not quite over his disappointment yet. He was still shaking the capsule in case it yielded a different character. 

Gladio raised his hand, declining the invitation but anyway, Prompto was already dragging him into the store, forcing Noctis to step back before he was run over. “Everyone gets a phone strap tonight. It'll be like our souvenir!”

“If the phone strapʼs the souvenir, then what the hell were you taking those photos for?” Gladio really didnʼt get Promptoʼs deal sometimes— _most_ of the time, but he was already there, anyway, crouching in front of the machine. If it was this important to them… 

Well, maybe…maybe the guy has a point. 

“Iʼll just take a photo of the store!” Prompto called to them, waving outside in the street. 

Gladio shook his head, watching him from behind his shoulder while he fished out some coins from the purse strapped around his thigh. “How do you even manage to keep up with him?” he asked his only companion left. 

Noctis shrugged, leaning against the toy dispensers while he played with the capsule in his hands. “Dunno. You just get used to him, I guess,” was his helpful suggestion. 

“Heʼs like you but flipped completely upside down. Lively, blonde, cheerful.”

“Hey, I can be lively and cheerful, too!” 

Gladio gestured at him with his coins. “Want me to get you a Rare, Highness?” He blocked Noctisʼ kick with a swift arm, laughing at his expense. 

“Iʼll get a Rare on my own, thanks!”

Gladio shrugged dramatically. “Donʼt say I didnʼt offer,” was his last warning before he popped in one of the two coins he held. “Whatʼs Prompto up to when youʼre training?”

“Hm? Uh…” Noctis looked up. “Video games. Maybe. Or reading comics. Why dʼyou ask?” He looked back to Gladio cranking the machine. 

“Iʼm just thinking,” Gladio went on, waiting to hear the capsule fall before he scooped it out of the dispenser. “If you always have this much fun with Prompto around, why donʼt you bring him by for training?”

“ _Huh?_ You serious?” Noctis stared at Gladio in disbelief. “Whatʼs he going to do in the training room with me?”

“Thatʼs for him to say and you to ask him,” Gladio said, unperturbed. He shook the capsule until the character faced him—not Rare—then popped in his last coin to the machine. “Think about it. I think it might work.”

“To what?”

“To make you train more often, of course.” Gladio looked up to Noctis. “To make things easier for you. More fun. Look, I know weʼve always been master and apprentice to each other, and itʼs normal for you to see our training sessions as punishment. But I found out something while I was watching you and Prompto geek out over this machine.”

“Huh?” Another brow raised. 

“I never see you have this much fun with anything weʼre doing. I know you like gloating when you win a sparring match with me but,” Gladio shrugged, “thatʼs still different. And Iʼm not saying I want you to show this level of energy during our trainings but,” he placed his fist on his heart, “it’s still important to me that you get to have more moments like this.” He returned to the machine, and started turning the dial. 

“Hey, thatʼs cheating. Youʼre only supposed to get one chance.” Noctis began to cough again until he cleared his throat. 

“I guess Promptoʼs spiel about making memories got to me, too.” Gladio smirked. “Tonightʼs been fun,” he retrieved his prize, “and if I have the power to give you more memories like this, then Iʼve decided to do it.” Rising to his feet, he thumped his chest with the new capsule. “Iʼm your Shield, Noct. And I realized just now my job isnʼt just protecting you and motivating you. Itʼs also protecting your happiness and whatʼs important to you. And Iʼm gonna do it for you!” A strange place for an epiphany—but it just goes to show how much he didnʼt know about his prince. 

That changed now—all this time, heʼd been focusing on the physical but if he wanted Noct to face the future as a stronger man, he had to look beyond it. He had to make Noctʼs heart strong, too. 

He felt good. Like a new leaf or however that saying goes. Maybe things were finally starting to turn around for him. 

“Yeah?” Noctis replied uneasily, scratching his head. He felt embarrassed, always so used to distance and guarded hearts. Well, Gladio had said what heʼd said and now itʼs up to Noct to deal with it. “Just,” he slapped him lightly on his sleeve, “donʼt overdo it, okay?”

“Ha! Iʼll be the judge of that,” Gladio laughed. Now that thatʼs settled, he could finally take a peek at his second capsule—much to Noctʼs dissatisfaction. He whistled. 

He snorted. “Cheater.”

“Not my fault Ignis got a migraine.” Gladio tossed the second capsule to Noctis as he passed him on his way out. Prompto was waving at them now. “Everyone gets a souvenir tonight.”

“Hey, how come Ignis gets a Rare and I donʼt?!”

Gladio spun, arms out. “I offered,” he reminded him. “Now cʼmon, the lineʼs getting long!” Whatever this mythical line is. 

Noctis led the way with his map again while Prompto talked his ear off about some recent achievement with _Kingʼs Knight_. Gladio hung back a little while he checked his phone for messages, especially ones from his girlfriend. 

Almost jumped when he saw his ex had sent him one thirteen minutes ago. 

_Thanks for the tip,_ heʼd said. _With a little poking around, I found out the king had gone off to see the ramparts himself._ And wherever the king is, his Shield was surely along. 

_Found anything?_ Gladio replied. 

_Not yet._ Five minutes later. _But this coincides with my theory that the Crown City is being girded for something big._

_Good job as always, Ignis._ Gladio grinned. _Leave Noct to me. Iʼll make sure to gird him up properly myself._

_Much appreciated, Gladio._

_He told me you have a migraine, by the way. Feeling better?_

_A little, although I still canʼt stand the light. Thank you for checking in on me._

_No problem._ Gladio smiled at his screen. _So what are you_

“Hey guys, look, there she is!!”

Saved by the Prompto, heʼd almost flirted with his ex! 

“Whoah, sheʼs huge!” Noctis was laughing with excitement. 

Too soon, too soon. Gladio cut his reply short and sweet ( _No problem._ ) before he stuffed his phone in his pocket and hurried after both friends darting straight to a ginormous monument, illuminated with—

Oh. Oh, it was no monument. 

Kind of. But the proper word to use for it was ‘robotʼ—complete with a helmeted head, armored shoulders, gauntleted arms with rockets, legs in the action pose, the likes. Lights surrounded her all along her body (was that the right word to use?) and down her feet in a circle of spotlights beaming up. She was practically a white giant. The way Gladio saw her, she was like a junior version of one of the Old Wall—but if Noctis and Prompto had something to say about it. 

“So cool!” Noctis was practically swooning while he fitted her in his camera phone, like the rest of the crowd filling up the open space with them. What a surprise, Gladio never realized she was this popular. “Canʼt wait for Luna to see this.”

“Hey, if youʼre going to send Lady Lunafreya a picture, send one of you with the robot!” Gladio offered his hand to the prince. “Cʼmon, Iʼll get a good picture of you.”

“Guys!”

Or, well, there _was_ Prompto, with his best camera and all and his boundless energy. He waved at them from a cordoned queue of spectators, waiting for their chance to get a good picture with the giant. He was hopping up and down…oh _thatʼs_ the line he was talking about! Oh, itʼs really gotten long now. 

“Hey, Noct, the lineʼs gotten long!” Gladio nudged at the prince and directed him to Prompto saving them a spot. They rejoined him. 

From where they stood, they must have crawled to the front for 15 minutes. During then, Gladio had taken his own photo of the robot because he was already there, anyway. He could show it to Iris when he got home. Did Iris know this robot? 

“Hey, Gladio!” Noctis knocked him on his chest. 

He leaned down between Noctis and Prompto for another group picture. In the span of an hour, Prompto must have taken a hundred photos by now. Where was he going to keep all that? 

“Noct, youʼre up first!”

“All right! Take a good picture of me, okay?”

A highly subjective instruction—the camera and the photographer would doubtless do a great job of it but the subjectʼs definition of a ‘good pictureʼ seemed to be lacking from Gladioʼs point of view. He was just standing there, and crossing his arms like some idol wannabe. Typical. 

“Hey, is that what youʼre going to show the lady?” he jeered from the line, hands framing his mouth. “Donʼt just stand there looking like you have to pee, strike a pose like your life depends on it!” 

“Iʼm gonna kill you, Gladio!” Noctis roared back, burning to his hairline. Prompto burst out laughing. Gladioʼs job was done. 

After Noctis had his turn, it was time for another group photo with the robot. After that, they hit the corner _Crowʼs Nest_ branch for some late night snacks before they called it a day. 

Prompto sung out a sigh while he was flipping through his pictures as they waited for their orders. “Tonight was fun, you guys! Next time, we ought to do this again with Ignis.”

“Yeah, tell me about it,” Gladio echoed with a grin of his own, glancing briefly at Prompto before he turned to the prince on his other side, running his fingers lightly over his left calf. “Hey, you okay there?” A quiet question. 

“Yeah,” Noctis answered softly. “Just a little sore.” He coughed. 

“Told you you should have just stayed at home,” Gladio clicked his tongue, shaking his head. “You’re still coughing, too.”

Noctis smirked at Gladio, one brow up. “But you had fun, didnʼt you?”

Gladio rolled his eyes, then, and jabbed his finger at Noctisʼ temple for his impudence. Noctis cackled. His phone started ringing. “Fine,” he said, slipping out the device from his pocket, “Iʼll give you that.” He looked at the caller. 

_Jessie,_ read the name, with a picture of the two of them together. 

“Sorry.” Gladio got up quickly, stumbling out the dinner. “I gotta take this call.” He didnʼt wait for either of his companions to reply. 

Outside, he took a moment to school his breathing, running his left hand over his hair while he read the name again, as though it might change. Now or never, he thought, clearing his throat. Iris, Noctis, Ignis—there were people who were counting on him to get things right again. Jessie deserved her own peace of mind. 

He answered the call and carried the phone to his ear. “Hey, Jessie.”

“ _Hi! Gladio…_ ” She sounded nervous, he thought. He could see her now pulling her soft hair behind her ear again. “ _Busy?_ ”

“No, not at all.” Gladio shook his head. He moved aside when an incoming car flashed at him, raised his hand in apology. “Whatʼs up? Iʼm glad you called.” She took the leap for him. 

“ _Actually,_ ” Jessie spoke slowly. Gladio waited for her, moving to the bench to sit beside Kenny Crowʼs statue. From the car, two passengers stepped out and entered the diner. “ _I…Iʼve been meaning to call you…I think we should meet._ ”

“Yeah, I,” Gladio dipped his head low, one elbow braced on his knee. “I think we should talk, too.” Finally took it—his own leap of faith. 

“ _O, okay,_ ” she said after a pause. “ _Um…Iʼm free tomorrow._ ”

“Good.” Gladio straightened up. “Six? We can meet at the pasta place near your office.”

“ _Okay. Sure._ ”

“Okay.” Gladio pressed his hand on his chest, feeling his nervous heart. He wasnʼt exactly what one would call a virgin in relationships but damn, this was different. “So uh…see you tomorrow.”

“ _Yeah, um…see you._ ” The call ended. Mission accomplished. 

Gladio exhaled, keeping his phone. Tomorrow was going to be an entirely different story but heʼll cross the bridge once he got there. For the moment, his friends were waiting for him. 

He went back in, then, rubbing the back of his neck. 

Noctis was on his feet, seething at some stranger about a head taller than both him and Prompto, whoʼd squeezed himself between unwanted visitor and prince. Another one stood next to them, a backup at a perfect spot to grab Noctisʼ shoulder if he ever chose to make a move. 

Gladio took a second to capture the entire scenario and panic. Come the next, he was grabbing the first antagonist by the shoulder and throwing him back as he roared, “What the hell do you think youʼre doing?!”

“Gladio!!” A chorus of prince and friend. 

The attacker landed sharply on the wall next to the doorway, almost falling out to the concrete if his friend hadnʼt caught him in time by the arm. He was probably around Noctisʼ age and built, just taller, leaner. His friend was shorter and thicker which would have made him more capable of taking on Noctis if Gladio hadnʼt intercepted. 

And yet despite having taken stock of the potential threat on his princeʼs life, Gladio still didnʼt know what was going on. The only thing he knew was that he had to act as if this was a real murder attempt. 

Even when both of Noctisʼ attackers had faltered at his size, practically scrambling just to get up on their feet. Gladio glared darkly at them, squaring his shoulders, pushing out his chest, as if his height wasnʼt intimidating enough. He took one step forward. 

They shuffled several steps backwards. 

“You got a problem with him, you take it up with me!” Gladio barked. 

“Gladio, stop it!” Noctis hissed, pawing at his jacket sleeve. “Theyʼre unarmed, let them go.”

“Cʼmon, letʼs go.” Even the second attacker was echoing the princeʼs sentiment, this time with his friend, pulling at his sweater. “This is getting way out of hand!” At least one of them was showing sense.

The other one was still showing some ill-advised stubbornness, matching Gladioʼs glare and hard jaw. He snarled. 

Redirected his ire at the crown prince when he spat, “Tell your _weak_ old man that his refugees act is going to be the death of Insomnia!”

“Whoʼs weak, you motherfucking—”

“Noct, donʼt—!!”

Gladio barred the attacking prince with one arm, grabbing onto his sleeve while Prompto grasped at his other arm to stop him. He waited for Noctis to control himself before he issued a warning finger to the offending citizens. “Donʼt let me catch you inciting violence against the Crown again or I _will_ personally serve you your warrant!”

“Sorry! Sorry, weʼre leaving now.” The second attacker finally cracked, dragging his friend back with him to their car. “Weʼre going. Sorry!”

It took some time before they could get themselves up to their feet and then inside the car, following a quick argument that almost ended in a fist fight in a _Crowʼs Nest_ parking lot. Gladio watched them closely until they disappeared behind the wall. 

And then Noctis shoved him off, and pulled back his arm from a startled Prompto with a wild slash. He started coughing then, half-limping back to his stool where Gladio had left him…before that little incident. Damn, was he blindsided! 

Gladio exhaled, scratching at his head. Noctis glared at the stained countertop, frowning darkly. 

He turned to Prompto, wide-eyed and stunned by what just passed. “What the hell happened?” Gladio muttered. 

“Noct and I were just talking when those two came up behind us,” Prompto sputtered, pitch high. “They came from there.” He pointed to the empty seats to his right. “They were ordering and then…maybe they recognized Noct?”

“You sure they didnʼt look like stalkers?”

“Ahhh, donʼt ask me that question, Iʼm not a trained Crownsguard!!” Prompto panicked. He was right, though. If there was anyone here who should have seen that coming, it was… 

Gladio turned to the prince, still scowling, still upset about the incident. He sighed as he approached, braced his hands on his sides because where else should he put them? Damn him, though. Damn him and his talent for bad timings and wrong decisions. “Noct, that was on me,” he began quietly. “Iʼm sorry. I should have—”

“You seen my dad recently?”

Not the kind of response he expected from his prince. Gladio didnʼt know what to say…no, he did. But it wasnʼt helpful to his prince: “No. Iʼm sorry.” Noctisʼ brows tightened. 

“Let’s go,” he said, getting up to head out without waiting on them. “I wanna go home.”

“Wait, Noct, the food—!”

“Leave it, Prompto,” Gladio called to him, just as he was about to retrieve it from the guy behind the bar who watched them with round eyes. He carried a tray loaded with salmon and fries. Their order. Too bad. 

“Here,” he said, taking money from his clip to leave on the table. “Keep the change. Sorry about earlier. Prompto,” he started out, “weʼre going.”


	5. Chapter 5

“ _I see. So thatʼs what happened,_ ” Ignis said after a long pause. “ _Well, thanks for letting me know._ ”

Gladio nodded, as if Ignis could see him over the phone but there was no one else in the lobby of the Amicitia household that morning. He sat alone in the alcove, facing the blessed likeness of Gilgamesh, framed by two tapestries with some old Lucian script. “Guess he didnʼt talk to you much, huh?”

“ _He ate his breakfast, gave me the capsule toy and left. I gave him several reminders and met no arguments._ ”

Gladio rubbed his eyes. This was exactly what he was worried about. And it had to happen after a great night out with Prompto where heʼd reaffirmed his vow as his Shield. Some Shield he was—turns out nothing much has changed. 

“Anyone else talking?” Gladio asked. 

“ _Not yet but I fear we may not be safe for long._ ” Ignis sighed. “ _Noct wonʼt like this. The Citadel will be watching his movements very closely again once they catch word of this._ ”

“Have you seen His Majesty lately?”

“ _No. Noct asked me the same thing earlier. Although I donʼt know if I should be happy that he has also asked me for the latest reports. I think he wants to find out what His Majesty could be occupied with, seeing as I can offer no help._ ”

“Donʼt take it personally, Ignis.”

“ _Not at all. Itʼs not like you two ganged up on me anyway and forced me to divulge that Iʼm being kept away from certain important meetings._ ” Oh right. That happened. 

“Oops.” Gladio grinned. “Donʼt be mad, Noct was just concerned.”

“ _Of his free time, Iʼm sure._ ” Ignis sighed. “ _Why else would he have enlisted you to keep his cough a secret from me, going so far as to attend every training with you just to prove heʼs fine?_ ” Oh. “ _Did you really think I wouldnʼt find out, Gladio?_ ” Oops. 

Gladio scratched at a stubborn itch at the back of his left ear. “Look, I just thought he could use a friend.”

“ _At the expense of his health. How long has he suffered it?_ ”

“Look, if it makes you feel better, go take him to the doctor later,” Gladio said instead. Ignis was always so good with words but he wasnʼt terrible at avoiding answers himself. “He doesnʼt have training today.”

“ _And I donʼt have time today._ ” Ignis clicked his tongue. “ _You see…thereʼs this meeting Iʼve been trying to get and now that I have it…I canʼt just cancel it._ ”

“It canʼt be moved?”

“ _Absolutely not—itʼs not my call._ ” Another long pause. “ _Or perhaps I should. Noctʼs health should take utmost presidence._ ”

“Then let me do it,” Gladio offered, spreading out his left hand. Later on, he would wonder why he did it. “Iʼll take Noct to the doctor.” But it probably didnʼt help that Ignis was involved. 

“ _Donʼt you have work today?_ ”

“Let me handle that.” Gladio smirked. “I got some people I can talk to.”

“ _Very well,_ ” Ignis conceded. “ _Thank you, Gladio. Iʼll try to catch up._ ”

“All right. Iʼll keep you posted.”

Ignis hung up, then. Gladio scratched at the top of his head, sighing heavily. Noct isnʼt going to like this. 

_Gilgamesh, give me the strength to weather Noctʼs mood,_ he prayed as he took two incense sticks from the chest underneath the imageʼs feet and lit them up with a lighter.

—

As soon as Noctis saw him standing by a Citadel car, Gladio knew he knew something was wrong.

As if it wasnʼt bad enough that he was being picked up at school like some damn kid but Gladio still tried to play it cool. He raised one hand, and greeted his prince with a, “Yo.”

“Gladio,” was Noctisʼ own, accompanied by a frown. Even though Prompto next to him was as cheerful as ever, waving lively at the unexpected visitor. “What are you doing here? I thought I didnʼt have training today?”

“Yeah, this oneʼs different,” Gladio answered even as he bumped fists with Prompto. “Hope you donʼt have any plans with Prompto today, youʼre gonna have to cancel.”

“Ah, n, no…not really…” Prompto turned to the unhappy prince for his thoughts. “Well, we were going to play video games at home.”

“Youʼll have to let me have this one for now.” Gladio tried to sound as apologetic as he could, though to show that he wasnʼt taking no for an answer, he opened the door to the empty backseat. 

Noctis huffed quietly. “Sorry, Prompto,” he said, waving to his friend. “Let’s just do it tomorrow.”

“Okay!” Prompto waved back. “See ya!”

“Yeah.”

Prompto took off on his own, then, while Noctis boarded the car obediently, tossing his bag to his feet. Gladio followed after him. 

“What is it this time?” Noctis groaned just as the car started moving, leaning back onto the headrest to take a nap. Gladio couldnʼt imagine spending the whole day with this kind of mood but Noctis was nothing if not stubborn. And there might actually be something about it that Gladio admired. 

“Favor from Ignis,” Gladio replied, sending a message to the same suspect. “Someone didnʼt hide his allergy meds properly.”

“Huh?” Noctis turned drowsily to him. “Oh,” he said when Gladioʼs words finally clicked. “So…”

“Yep,” Gladio confirmed, keeping his phone. “Weʼre going to the doctor.”

“Sucks,” Noctis sighed, getting comfortable again. 

They took the first turn right from the school entrance, rising over a highway and then down and left into a quieter road finally, between an empty playground and a plaza with nothing but birds in it. Gladio recognized it as the backroad leading to the hospital. Secrecy followed the crown prince wherever he went. 

“So whereʼs Ignis?” he asked. 

“Work,” Gladio answered. “Says heʼs got this special meeting heʼs been chasing and canʼt let go.” He observed Noctisʼ reaction, which was to turn and look at him meaningfully with furrowed brows. He nodded. “He wonʼt tell me what it is but I think heʼs onto something.”

“Did he say what time—” Noctis yelped as the tires screeched and pushed him up to the window at his side. Gladio grabbed onto the shoulder of the empty seat in front of him while the vehicle spun. Something popped and cracked. There was a shattered web on the windshield as their driver slumped forward onto the steering wheel—

Oh shit. 

The car jumped forward. More cracks and booms as the car veered wildly and tilted for balance—

_Oh shit, oh shit!!_

Noctis started screaming—

It was all Gladio could do to grab the prince and pull him to his chest while Noctis hid behind his arm, latching onto it with fierce hands while he pulled his legs up to protect his front. The first lesson Gladio had ever taught him. 

His world turned upside down. He could hear his mother screaming. Gladio covered Noctisʼ head with the span of his hand, tucking it under his chin. He sent a quick prayer to Gilgamesh and the Astrals. _Gods, just let me protect Noct._

And then everything upended in a great crash.

—

He couldnʼt remember how long heʼd been staring at darkness. It felt like heʼd been buried under a great mountain, that smelled of petrol, metal, and something similar but tangier. He couldnʼt remember what had brought him there in the first place, either. How long heʼd been asleep. Where the mountain had come from.

Gladio woke up with a start, staring wildly at the dark room. Cramped, hard, leather along the ceiling and the sides. Had he been here before? But he couldnʼt remember what had happened before heʼd come to that place. One of his arms felt strange and heavy, and then there was a weight pressed onto his chest—

“Noct!” he rasped, choking with his own shock. He remembered it all suddenly—the crash, the cracks and booms, Noctis screaming—

He was still there, curled up by Gladioʼs side, digging his fingernails into the meat of his arm. Still alive. 

Gladio sighed, clapping him on the side. Still alive! Not everything was lost, there was still hope for them yet. 

But now they had to move. He dragged in great gasps of breath. Not a smart thing to do in that tight space but he needed the air to contain his panic…gods, why was he panicking?! He was the Shield of the future king, he shouldnʼt be panicking!! 

“Iʼm gonna get you out of here, Noct,” he swore under his breath, twisting and pulling himself so that he could plant his right elbow to the ground, pinning Noctis between him and it. Not easy. A dull pain shot up to his shoulder. He took a moment to control it, clenching his fist to steady himself before he started dragging them both to the window by the sheer power of his arms. _Not easy._ “Can you move?” he asked, looking down to his prince. 

Noctis nodded. Slowly, he pried his fingernails free from Gladioʼs skin. Gladio breathed more easily despite the crescent-shaped bruises left behind. Good, this was good. He was still responsive, and strong. His hands felt cold and clammy but that was the least of his problems now. 

“Stay little,” he breathed, fixing an awkward arm around the back of his waist. Noctis pulled his knees tighter as he started coughing. “Iʼm gonna get us outta here.” His mantra. With his worse arm, he started testing the shattered window up ahead, searching for a spot he could attack with his fist. Gladio thumped at it steadily, fighting the urge to just drive his arm through despite the urgency. He needed to get the prince out of here. 

It gave with a weak crack. Gladio allowed himself a breath of relief, and then he pounded on, keeping at it until he could create an opening large enough to fit him. 

As for Noctis, he left him in the car as he crawled out, taking in mouthfuls of fresh air while he still could. He had to move carefully—whoever was behind this was still out there. Whatever this was, this still wasnʼt over. He had to get Noctis out of here. To do that, he had to keep his head. 

“Noct,” he coughed, crouching low next to the open window. He should probably check on the driver but he was likely dead by now, and he wasnʼt his duty. Sucks but heʼll leave the guilt for later. “Cʼmon, reach for me.” He stretched out his better left to tether the groaning prince. Noctis caught his forearm but his grip was too shaky, he couldnʼt rely on his strength alone. 

Gladio had to reach out with his injured arm, then, biting through the pain. “Gotcha,” he grunted, pulling Noctis out of the wreckage by his sleeve and armpit and then bracing himself to carry his weight like a crutch. Noctis looked conscious but barely—his brows were squeezed tight, he frowned deeply in discomfort. He moaned, couldnʼt even raise his head. 

“Iʼm gonna carry you, okay?” Gladio breathed, throwing Noctisʼ arms over his shoulders like a scarf so he could lift him chest-to-chest. He was probably violating 10 first aid rules by doing this but gods dammit, he was no Ignis and he was racing against time here! “On the count of three,” he mumbled, Noctis pressing his head to his collar. “One. Two…” He pulled them up to their feet. 

The sharp sting of a bullet cut deeply into the meat of his left shoulder. Noctis slipped to his knees as Gladio fell with him, yelling at the pain. He caught him just before his head hit the pavement. 

All other senses and thought fled him when the air around him burst with a hail of bullets. Gladio pulled Noctisʼ legs up to his chest again as he turned him to his side and pinned him to the ground. Noctis cried out in pain. 

“ _Stay down,_ ” Gladio roared, eyes shut tight. He couldnʼt believe it—whoever was behind this had given this operation some thought and managed to corner them like a pair of animals! And if he didnʼt do anything, one of them—namely him—was likely going to get killed sooner than heʼd like. What a terrible prospect; he couldnʼt do that to Noct, he had to get him out of here first! 

“Noct!” he cried to the prince flickering in and out of his blue form. He was phasing—or at least, he was _trying_ to phase! “Stay here. Iʼm gonna open up a path!!” The fresh wound on his back and his racing nerves were making thinking hard but if he didnʼt act now, he may as well not try at all. Couldnʼt even scope the damn field to see where the situation stood. He reached out to the air, catching a bullet across the back of his right hand while he gathered the crystals into his palm. 

With another roar, he struck his glaive deep into the ground, flanking Noctis with the wreckage of the Citadel car. It was hardly a shelter fit for the future king but Gladio couldnʼt stay still much longer. Heʼll have to put his faith on luck and his prince himself. 

Crystals gathered round his left side as he took off into danger. With a bellow, he charged at the shooters behind the safety of his shield, slamming himself straight onto the car that acted as a part of their barricade. It flew back from the impact, shoving and pinning some unfortunate misfits under its weight. 

Gladio hopped over the car then with a sweeping kick and started beating the living hell out of those that had survived, a mission better-suited for a glaive if only the goal was pure vengeance against their attackers clad in black. Despite the rage building up in him, though, and how easily their enemies fell upon meeting the business end of his shield, he couldnʼt let himself be carried away. Noctisʼ safety was his utmost priority. What sort of a Shield submitted himself to unnecessary slaughter at the expense of his liege? As soon as the bullets had stopped, they would have to get running. 

That was, until Noctisʼ blade had struck the same car heʼd charged into and the prince reappeared out of the blue—literally—to send a wild kick at the closest attacker. Gladio must have cried his name in his shock, too stunned to panic, hurrying to cover him with his shield as Noctis grabbed onto his collar. 

“Hang on,” he coughed, sword in hand. Gladio recognized it as the one his father had given him during one of his birthdays. Noctis pitched the blade out into the plaza just as a shot rang. They warped. Gladio had never warped before. 

Which was probably why it ended so poorly, the blade spinning uselessly on the ground while both he and Noctis landed right next to it like a pair of drunkards. Noctis rolled out onto his back, coughing again, wincing tightly while he grasped his side. 

“Noct,” Gladio gasped, crawling over to him. “Noct, can you warp out? You have to—” The rest of his words choked him when he saw red seeping through Noctisʼ fingers—blood. That shot before the warp…heʼd been hit by it. Someone had come so close to taking his future kingʼs life. 

He patted himself for any curatives, swallowing down a great crystal to steel himself at their grimmer prospects. Found none. Brilliant. Things turned out to be a lot worse than he was ready for. Good job, Gladiolus! He started to pull off his jacket, leaving the seething for later. “Noct, youʼre—”

“Not,” Noctis snarled, trying to push him off when he began to wrap the sleeves around his wound, “gonna leave you—”

“Donʼt be an idiot, this isnʼt the time to pretend to be a hero!!” Gladio roared, his temper causing Noctis to flinch. “You think this is just some stupid video game?! Youʼve been hit!!” He tied a fierce knot at Noctisʼ side, causing him to cry. “You’re the crown prince, your life is more important than mine!”

“And what the hell does that have to do with anything?!” Noctis bit back, shoving at Gladioʼs shoulder. He eased himself up to his knees again. “You’re not the only one stuck out here,” he hissed, pressing his wound again. 

“Pick your own damn battles, this oneʼs mine!” Gladio growled, over a chorus of running footsteps steadily approaching. Gods, but they sure are persistent. 

He looked over his shoulder, searching for them just as a voice ordered, “Make sure to take the prince alive!” How comforting. 

“Get up.” Pain shot out from Gladioʼs back and legs as he pulled Noctis up to his feet, the prince groaning, his hand on the knot. “You canʼt let ‘em take you!”

“Like hell I will,” he snarled, coughing. But even then, he could hardly stand upright without a hand on Gladioʼs shoulder. “But you canʼt take them all on your own—”

“Thatʼs my problem, not yours!” Gladio snapped, pulling him up by his shirt. He could hear the tires running. Damn, were they going to run him over? “Your problem is to get yourself out of here before—” Voices cried out in a panic. 

That was when he saw a familiar dark car ramming straight into the frontline of their pursuers before it twisted tightly towards them. Gladio couldnʼt believe his luck. 

Couldn’t even get mad at the driver when heʼd almost run his foot over in his haste. The back door flew open. 

“Get in!” Ignis barked. 

Didnʼt need to tell them twice. Gladio practically sent Noctis flying in and might have broken Ignisʼ door when he pulled it shut. Ignis floored the gas. 

The first thing he did as soon as they were in the safety of Ignisʼ car was to reach for his glove compartment and dig for any potions. His back and arms were burning and pulsing with pain but he fought through them until he could find what he needed. 

“What the hell happened?” Despite the obvious panic on his white knuckles, somehow Ignis still managed to keep his voice even. 

“Some bastards wanted to take Noct,” Gladio snarled, falling back next to the prince to crack open the potion in his hand. Noctis moaned, head heavy upon the carseat. “Didnʼt see where they came from.”

“The Crownsguard is onto it.” Ignis peeked at them from the rear view mirror. “And Noct…?”

“Shot.” Gladio gritted his teeth. “You gotta get us to the hospital fast as you can!”

“Roger that.” Ignis pressed on the gas again and turned straight into the next road, narrowly missing another car while he counterflowed. 

Gladio had almost met the window over Noctisʼ side at Ignisʼ swerving. He laid one hand on the princeʼs shoulder to steady him, keeping an eye on the color of his lips, the rise and fall of his chest. Useless. Until they could get him the help that he needed, that was all he could do. He couldnʼt believe it: of all the kings he could ever get, it had to be the One and True Chosen King. 

He really was the worst Amicitia in the world.

—

Gladio had lost track of all the traffic rules Ignis had violated just to get them to the hospital within ten minutes. During then, he occupied himself with redressing Noctisʼ wound, making calls, checking the princeʼs breathing and pulse again and again. As for the prince himself…

“Noct,” he called, nudged at his sleeping form and tapped his cheek to rouse him while Ignis flew out the car and demanded service. “Hey, Noct!” he tried again, shaking him harder this time. No change. “ _Shit,_ ” he snarled, putting his arms under him. 

He couldnʼt imagine what the onlookers might be thinking when they saw him carrying the unconscious prince out the car and onto the waiting emergency bed. The hospital security had their work cut out for them, pushing the crowd back before they got in the way. Gladio hurried after the speeding gurney. 

Only to be held back by Ignis— _of all people_ —from going after their prince. Gladio could hardly believe it. “What the hell, Ignis?!”

“Youʼve done your work,” Ignis insisted, standing between him and the doors to the emergency room. “Let the doctors do theirs.”

“Like hell theyʼre going to stop me from doing mine, Iʼm his Shield!”

“You’re wounded!” Ignis snapped, shoving him back when he tried to get past him. Normally Ignisʼ strength would be no problem for him but he wasnʼt exactly in what one would call a fit state right now. “You’re bleeding! Do you think youʼll be allowed in like that?! You too need to look after yourself, Gladio!”

“Get out of my way before I do something you regret, Scientia,” Gladio snarled, clenching his fist. 

“Will you leave me no choice then, Amicitia?” Ignis met him threat for threat. 

Gladio growled, pulling back his fist. 

Ignis moved smooth as lightning as he dodged the attack, summoning his dagger. The minute Gladio noted his forehand grip, he knew what he was in for but he was already too late. 

Ignis had already caught him by the arm and yanked him forward. With the hilt of his dagger, he knocked him out.

—

He really ought to stop waking up like this, he thought. Heavy. In pain. With no recollection about what just happened.

This time, when he came to, it was to white lights on a white ceiling, the steady voice of a news channel and soft cushions to support his aching head. 

What else hurt in him? Gladio groaned to test his voice. Still working. Twiddled his fingers and curled his toes. Still working. 

“Gladio?”

Lifted his hands just to remember what they looked like. He had a tube running from the back of his left hand to something overhead, and his right arm had several crescent-shaped punctures, turning purple like a bruise. It hurt, too. Vaguely. He _did_ recall someone had grabbed him there… 

“Gladio.” Ignis came into view, then, looking down on him. “You’re finally awake.” What was Ignis doing here? 

“Ignis?” Gladio asked dumbly. He looked around him—there was an empty chair next to a table with a lunch jar and a TV set overhead. The news was on; he could hardly hear what the middle-aged news anchor was saying but the headline under him read, _Crown prince kidnappers pursued._

“Noct!” Gladio pulled himself up in urgency. 

“Calm down!” Ignis cried and caught him before he pulled the tube from his arm. He forced him back down the bed with an iron grip on his shoulder. “Noctʼs fine!”

“What?” Gladio sputtered, staring at Ignis in surprise. 

Ignis smiled at him. “Calm down,” he repeated himself more gently. “Noctʼs fine.” Kinder words have never been said. 

Gladio closed his eyes as relief washed over him, and finally allowed himself to relax. “Thank you, gods,” he whispered.

—

A single gunshot wound. Multiple bruises. Fatigue and shock. Minor skin abrasions. And of course: a sprained ankle and a case of the flu.

That was the full diagnosis on Noctis Lucis Caelum who, at this point in time, was sleeping peacefully in his room. In the company of Prompto who had rushed to the hospital in his school uniform as soon as Ignis had told him the news. 

Gladio, in the meantime, suffered a strained arm, a lump at the back of his head, and multiple bruises, abrasions and gun wounds along his arms, his back, his legs, his everything. 

“All-in-all,” Ignis went on, pouring red soup into a bowl from the lunch jar, “Iʼd say we got off lucky.”

“Yeah,” Gladio agreed as he reached for the bowl, now sat up. “I guess things could’ve been worse.” He drank the soup, then, chewing at the little cubes of vegetables and meat mixed into it. “And the driver?”

Ignis shook his head, leaning back to the table. “Unfortunately, we couldnʼt save him.”

Gladio nodded. Not like he didnʼt already know it. Still sad, though. “What about the bastards who tried to take Noct?” He handed the empty bowl back to Ignis. “Do we know anything about them?”

“Unfortunately nothing conclusive yet,” Ignis reported, serving a second bowl to Gladio. “But we confirmed that the kidnapping attempt was to hold Noct for ransom. The demands would have been for His Majesty to exile the refugees from the Crown City.”

“I didnʼt realize the hate crimes were getting this bad around here,” Gladio said, bowl in hand again. “To think it made it all the way up to Noct…”

“Itʼs…bold,” Ignis agreed, nodding slightly. “And a little alarming. If you hadnʼt been there, Gladio…I fear what might have happened instead.” Him, too. Maybe this was some sort of divine intervention from the Astrals. Could have gone much better, though… 

Gladio finished his second bowl and handed it back to Ignis. 

“More?”

Gladio refused. “Iʼm done,” he said, leaning back to his pillow. “Now tell me about your special meeting.” He suddenly had a lot of things to catch up on. “What was it about?”

Ignis chuckled almost humorlessly while he wiped the bowl clean with a moist tissue. “Well, as with many things, it didnʼt happen.”

“What?”

Ignis pushed back his glasses. “For one thing, I heard about the attack on Noct. For another, I could hardly demand an audience with His Majesty while his own son was in danger.”

“You were going to meet with the king?” Gladio might have gaped. He was impressed—now _that_ was boss, too. Demanding an audience with the king when you werenʼt among his council…but he supposed it took an Ignis Scientia to pull that off. 

“I was hoping to ask him some significant questions with regards to our theories, Gladio, in hopes that I could relate it back to Noct, as well.” Ignis retrieved the TV remote from the table and dialed the volume up. “But I imagine Noct wonʼt be requiring my reports for a while.” The news was still on, showing a live footage of the scene, this time. Evening had come… 

Gladio hissed out a curse, planting his hands on his face to growl into it. 

“Gladio?”

“I had a date,” Gladio snarled, looking around his bed for his phone. “Fuck me, I had a date.”

“Jessie knows.”

Gladio snapped up to Ignis returning to the empty chair. “Jessie knows? How?”

“She came to see you,” Ignis shared. “I met her in the corridor, just as I left this room to look into Noct. She stopped me to ask if this was your room and introduced herself.”

“What did you say, then?”

“That this was your room,” Ignis answered. “Then I introduced myself, as well.” Well, what else was he expecting Ignis to do? The man was only being courteous and polite by giving his own name. 

But now she knew who he was. And that…pretty much tells her what he wanted to meet her for. 

“She had the same reaction,” Ignis went on, as if Gladio had asked him to lay on the guilt. “Quiet. Pensive. I left her then for the lift but before I stepped through, I saw that she had only stood at your door and left without even knocking.”

Gladio responded only with a nod. 

“Gladio, what did you tell her about me?”

“That you were just some guy that I worked with,” Gladio tried to be flippant with it, even throwing his hands with his shrug.

“And how did she come to know who I am?”

“I called you during our date to tell you about Noctʼs training. That we were starting early.” Gladio slumped back to his pillow after his confession. “That…that was when she told me that I was being distant sometimes. ” Ignis looked away, then, brows knitted in thought. “Iʼm sorry, Ignis.”

Ignis shook his head. “This wasnʼt your intention. You can hardly be blamed for being under pressure.”

“Canʼt believe youʼve finally bought into that excuse,” Gladio laughed. “But I have to stop, Ignis.” And smiled at his friend. “I have to stop blaming my job and my family for everything thatʼs going wrong in my life. Because the truth is that, Iʼm a mess.” He shrugged. “Thatʼs the only right answer.”

Ignis shook his head. “I will not speak for your relationships, or ours,” he responded calmly, “but I will speak for our prince. And I will tell you—youʼve done well.”

“I couldʼve done better.”

“You protected Noct, didnʼt you?”

“After he took a bullet for me.” And how the truth hurt—that he was so lacking as a Shield, his prince had to take a bullet for him. “I was opening up a path for him to run when he warped in to warp me out. He took that bullet, then.” He growled at himself, grabbing at his hair in full exasperation “Because I wasnʼt good enough to protect him and save him now what kind of a Shield lets that happen?”

“You could hardly have controlled Noct like a doll, Gladio. You and I both know how stubborn he is!”

“Yeah, but I did put him in danger because I couldnʼt do my job!” He couldnʼt stop himself from shouting even as Ignis glared at him. He spread his left arm out. “He shouldnʼt have stayed with me just because he didnʼt think I could take them on on my own!”

“So you would rather serve a puppet who would do as you please,” Ignis snapped. “And not a prince who risks himself because he cares about you!”

“If thatʼs what it takes to protect him, Ignis!” Gladio yelled back, letting out the full brunt of his rage. Bless Ignis, though, he wouldnʼt let up with his disappointment. Well, what else was new? 

“Iʼm the Shield of the future king, Ignis.” He spoke, chanted that damn curse heʼd heard all his life, as if to appeal to Ignisʼ reason. “And Noct is supposed to be the Chosen King so I gotta work harder for him. If he wouldnʼt let me lay down my damn life for him, to let me serve him with my purpose, my reason to live, then what the hell am I still doing here in the first place?!” He couldnʼt understand it, anymore. He tried his best, all of it. Only to be rejected, taken for granted, scorned for lacking. So what was it, really? What was so wrong with his best?

“Or,” Gladio breathed, throwing his hand up, “or is that how weak I am? That Iʼm only good enough to serve a puppet?” A revelation that hurt harder than a sword to the heart, so much that he could barely even whisper it for himself to hear. Maybe that was it all this time. Why else could he never honor his name and legacy? 

“Gladio…” Ignis tried to answer after a long silence, but even he was stumped. A first for Gladio. Not worth celebrating. His eyes fell on his hands, then. 

He got up, coming to sit next to Gladio to reach for him. 

When Ignis held him close, pressing him with a careful hand to his chest and tucking him under his chin, Gladio didnʼt fight it. That breath heʼd been holding in finally released itself in a shaking sigh as a tear streamed down his cheek. He had so little left as it is, he would be an idiot to reject this still. Maybe they shouldnʼt be doing this—they were exes. Theyʼd broken up for a reason. 

Heʼd think about it later. Right now, Ignis was right where he needed him.

—

Later that evening, dinner came in a special package.

“Gladdy!!”

“Iris!” Gladio couldnʼt begin to describe how happy he was to see his little sister. Ignis had left following a text from Prompto that Noctis was awake, and heʼd been alone with the news ever since. He waited for her to leave his take-out on his bedside table before he opened his arms and wrapped her in a bear hug. Not quite in keeping with the doctorʼs orders but the doctor wasnʼt around. Iris tried to match it with her own. 

And when she grew tired of it, she pulled back so she could inspect his injuries. “Does it hurt?” she asked. She was looking at the plaster on his back where heʼd taken the first bullet. 

“I think if it didnʼt hurt, something would be wrong with me,” Gladio snickered, which Iris didnʼt appreciate. “Itʼs nothing that I canʼt handle, of course.”

“You better take it easy for now, Gladdy.”

“You gonna lock me up in the bedroom, Iris?”

“Iʼm gonna throw away all your Cup Noodles if you use the combat room.”

Gladio laughed, matching her giggle. It was so good to see her smiling after such a harrowing experience, physically, mentally and emotionally. Just the thought of this part of his life being unchanging yet was enough to put him in good spirits. Somewhere in all this mess was a happy ending. 

“Who did you come with?” he asked his sister, just as the door opened slightly to show him who stood by the hallway. 

Clarus had returned from his work trip, speaking quietly with someone who must be working in the hospital. The conversation ended with a little bow from the Shield of the King himself. 

Gladio couldnʼt stop himself from swallowing a rock as his father stepped inside and shut the door behind him. “Dad, youʼre here,” was his dumb observation. Back so soon? If he was already here, then that meant… 

“Itʼs fortuitous,” he sighed, moving to his bedside. Iris took it upon herself to move his dinner to the table with the lunch jar. “Weʼd just dispensed with our most pressing work for the day when we caught word of the attack. We would have been here sooner if not for how delicate the situation is. For now, the entirety of the Crownsguard is on high alert as we continue to pursue these treasoners.”

“So they havenʼt been caught yet.”

“Not all. And not the mastermind behind this heinous attack against the Crown.” Well, this was bound to reach deeper than what he and Noctis saw. 

“Iris,” Clarus turned to his sister, “could I have a moment with your brother?”

“Uh…” That hesitation couldnʼt be any louder to Gladio even if Iris tried. He breathed in quietly, hoping Clarus would make no comment of it. “Okay, Dad.” When she looked at him, he wanted to nod at her and reassure her he was going to be okay. That night had already left its mark on her even when his bruises had faded. 

But he only waved at her with his better hand, and threw in a last minute favor for good measure. “Get me some soft drink from the vending machine.”

That at least cheered her up a little before she left. Gladio couldnʼt help but feel sad that her perception of their father had now been marred. This shouldnʼt have happened. He shouldnʼt have let this happen. 

“Tell me everything from the beginning.” Clarus always cut to the chase. 

Gladio tried to relax as he shook his head. “I canʼt tell you more than what I saw,” he began. “I picked up Noct from the school to take him to the doctor when we were ambushed. The first attack crashed into us from the front. Then they shot the driver. After that, other cars rammed into us.” He could still hear the metal erupting, the screaming tires. 

“I couldnʼt see much more.” He flung his better hand. “Noct was all I could think of.”

“As you should,” Clarus agreed. “And the crown prince?” How should he say this… 

Gladio looked to his hands as if for answers. “A little beaten up,” he admitted. “Sustained a gunshot wound at the side.” He couldnʼt hide anything from his father, after all. “Heʼs awake now.” 

“Astrals be praised.” Astrals be praised, indeed. Gladio couldnʼt imagine what kind of beating he was going to get from his father, otherwise. Assuming that was the worst of his worries. 

Even then, he still couldnʼt look his father in the eye. Still ashamed that heʼd allowed Noctis to take an injury for him. 

In the silence that followed, he could hear only the steady dripping of the IV, the hum of the machine regulating it and the sound of his own thoughts, repeating itself. 

His father cleared his throat, then. Gladio tensed, breathing in deeply and as quietly as he could. “His Majesty the king wished he could be here personally to speak with you, Gladiolus,” he started. “But as there now exists a very real threat to his life, we have advised him to linger only for as long as he must. Having said that, he has now tasked me to deliver his message to you.”

“Me?” That got Gladioʼs attention. For all that his family had served the Crown, after all, he couldnʼt say he was personally close to the king. 

Clarus looked him in the eye, then. “He wishes to thank you, for performing your duties to the Crown and for being there for His Highness when his life was in utmost danger. And knowing you will be his Shield one day has put him greatly at ease.” Not once in his life had he heard his father speak to him that way, and the feelings that left him with were complicated. Though technically, the words had been delivered by the king but to hear it still in his fatherʼs voice… 

“Thatʼs a lot.” Gladio felt bashful. He scratched his head, diverting his eyes again. “Should…should I say thanks?”

“I will extend the message to him.” 

Gladio muttered his own thanks, frowning seriously at the quilt over his legs. “But…even with that, Noct still got injured.” 

“Yes, even the king was most concerned about this,” Clarus sighed, inspecting the labels on his IV fluid bag. “Would that we Amicitia were gifted with the powers of a High Messenger, that all Rulers of Lucis may forever be safe under our wings. Still,” he looked down to face Gladio, “it changes not our duty to give our lives in the service of the Crown.” He raised his own fist, then. “In all things, we must do all that we can with what we are given.” Give it all heʼs got, leave nothing back. 

Gladio looked at his own hands as if to gauge the full-scale of his strength. Was it enough? Will it ever be enough?

—

He spent the night in the hospital, turning in early after his sister and his father had left. Come the next day, by the grace of timely and expertly administered curatives, the doctor had given him permission to go home.

“Noctʼs going to be sooo jealous,” Prompto sang, practically skipping down the corridor but in a very controlled and thinly veiled manner. 

“Noct will have to deal with that,” Ignis said as he pushed back his glasses. “As heir to the throne, he must be assuredly 100% before heʼs allowed to leave the hospital. I can imagine what sort of scandal would ruin them if theyʼd be any less careful.” Earlier, heʼd almost caused one when he learned that Prompto had skipped classes just to pay the prince a visit. 

“Well, heʼs still getting what he wants, isnʼt he?” Gladio groaned a little when he rolled his shoulders back just to give his muscles a little stretch. “Heʼll get to sleep all day and miss his training!”

A pair of Crownsguard men stood stock still by the door even as he waved to them. Prompto bounded in first, singing, “Good afternoon!” while Ignis followed behind him. 

“Prompto?! Did you just skip classes?” And what a relief it was, to hear the prince as if everything was normal. 

“What? It sounds like Noct doesnʼt like having his friends visit him!”

“For the record, I had mentioned exactly the same thing earlier.” Ignis sounded completely exasperated. 

“It was just one class, okay?!” A pause. “Okay, two classes but our history teacher was absent!”

“Hey, Prompto, I was counting on you to copy those notes and assignments for me, yʼknow?” Noctis shook his head in disappointment. Except for the hospital gown, the tubes connected to his arms and his bound foot elevated by some pillows, Gladio had to say that he even looked normal now. 

And moved normally, too. The moment he caught sight of Gladio, Noctis started with a loud, “Hey!” and directed an accusing finger to his person. Snappy movements. A complete opposite to the dazed Noctis heʼd rescued from the car yesterday. “You’re going home?!”

“How are you, Gladio? Iʼm fine, thanks,” Gladio snickered as he found a place by the wall and crossed his arms—carefully—over his chest. His right arm still felt battered from the accident and then the ensuing fight. The doctor had offered to encase it in a brace but Gladio had never been a fan of those. Always preferred to heal in his own terms, just to test his limits. “How about you, Prince?”

“Stuck in here for at least another day,” Noctis scowled, folding his own arms in discontent. “My hairʼs so oily and Iʼm sticky and I feel like I still smell like gas.”

“Perks of royalty!” Gladio laughed almost in triumph. 

“But hey,” Prompto leaned closer to Noctis from where he parked himself by the princeʼs feet, “at least even here you get to be treated like royalty, right?” Between the four of them, he was always the one most excited about the appeal of the Crown, being a blissfully ordinary citizen with no court duties whatsoever. 

The room that had been set aside for the prince was probably about 3 or 4 times bigger than Gladioʼs, with a receiving room at the front, stylish furniture, a surplus of comfortable-looking couches and space for get well soon gifts from…literally everyone. And a great view of Insomniaʼs cityscape from one side of the main room to boot. Gladio didnʼt even have a window to begin with. 

“If I wanted to be treated like royalty, I could just go back to the Citadel,” Noctis muttered with an obvious frown. “Whatʼs the use of having a big room if Iʼm stuck in bed in the first place?”

“That would be for us to utilize, of course,” Ignis rejoined from Noctisʼ bedside table, shutting a clipboard of documents he had been perusing since he entered the room. “Have the test results from your blood exam, ultrasound and x-ray not come back yet?”

“Uh…” Noctis was clueless, of course. 

Ignis sighed, nudging back his glasses. “Iʼll go get them from the nurseʼs office. And I need a can of Ebony.”

“Me, too, me, too!”

“Hey, Prompto, get me one, too!”

Noctis directed his finger to his bedside table where Prompto extracted his purse from the first drawer. “How about you, Gladio?”

“Get me anything cold and carbonated,” was his instruction while he slipped out a note from his clip to hand to the hopping Prompto. 

Prompto waved the purse to Noctis on his way out the door. “Thanks for the treat, Prince!”

“Hey, that wasnʼt my point!”

Too late, Prompto and Ignis had shut the door behind them. 

“Call it a friendship fee for paying you a visit,” Gladio cackled. 

“Why would you still call it friendship if youʼre paying for it, anyway?” Noctis snorted. Maybe he was counting on Gladio to reply but really, what does one say to that? 

Awkward silence ensued. 

“So uh…” Noctis scratched his head, then winced at how his scalp felt on his fingernails. “Guess youʼre doing okay, huh?”

Gladio smirked lightly. “Better than you, Iʼd say.”

Noctis looked like he was still pouting when he looked down his lap. “You took all those bullets for me, how come you get to get out of here now?”

“You wanna trade and catch all those bullets instead?” He pulled himself from the wall, then, and sat himself next to Noctisʼ feet. “I missed one, though.” He gestured to the princeʼs side. 

Noctis looked down to it. “Oh. Yeah.” He ran his hand over his nape. “Guess I wasnʼt fast enough.”

“We could work on that once you get outta here.” Gladio hoped he was reassuring him, even nodding while he was at it. “That wasnʼt your business, though. Catching bullets. You should have left that to me.”

“Hey.” Noctis leaned back to his pillows. Gods, even the pillows looked plushier. And it was plural! Pillow with an S! “You’re still hung up about that?”

“About you getting hit?” Gladio nodded. “You bet I am.” He looked at his fist, then, as he clenched it. “It tells me I have to be faster and stronger for you.”

“Hey, I told you to stop overdoing that,” Noctis sighed, clicking his tongue. “You really think I could just leave you alone out there while Iʼm saving my ass? Itʼs like weʼre not even friends.”

“When your lifeʼs on the line, Highness, thereʼs no room for friendship.”

“Then why the hell are you training me that hard for?”

“So you could save yourself, you idiot,” Gladio said, straightening up. Noctis was still sulking, though. “Your training isnʼt just for cool points, itʼs self-defense.”

“Sounds awfully one-sided to me.”

“Cʼmon,” Gladio tossed a hand to Noctis, “what part of this donʼt you get?”

“Where do I start?” Noctis muttered, looking off to the side. “Maybe the part where you donʼt get how I feel when you get hurt because of me.”

“Iʼm your Shield, Noct. Thatʼs kind of like my job.”

“Canʼt be both Shield and friend, huh?”

Gladio frowned, not that he didnʼt like that he and Noctis were friends but he hadnʼt rehearsed this part of the conversation…at all. Always so used to prioritizing his duty, his prince, his family… 

“Look,” Noctis scratched his head again, “Iʼm not saying Iʼm not grateful for what youʼre doing for me. I mean…I know, if you hadnʼt been there, I probably wouldnʼt be here, too. But,” he shrugged, “am I really just a figurehead to you? You know, itʼs kind of unflattering to just be seen as a job.”

“Hey, Noct, thatʼs not what Iʼm saying,” Gladio sputtered hastily. But he took a moment to collect his next few thoughts before he gave voice to them. “I just…I just donʼt want you getting hurt, Noct. Not if I can help it. Not just because youʼre my job but,” he shrugged, “because youʼre…Noct. Youʼre my friend.” He placed one hand on his heart. “Youʼre one of my best friends and I donʼt like seeing any of my friends get hurt. So it pisses me off because Iʼm supposed to be protecting you but I couldnʼt.” 

“Yeah?” Noctis crossed his arms. “Feelingʼs mutual.” Oh. Oh, he saw what he was doing there. 

Gladio issued a warning finger at his prince just as he started to gesticulate again. “No. Shut up. I donʼt want to see you covering for me.”

“Fine, Iʼm not gonna stop you from doing your job but you better stop controlling my actions, too!”

“I wasnʼt trying to control you!” What an irritable piece of shit! 

“Then let me fight!” Noctis snapped. “Look, I know what youʼre gonna say, that my lifeʼs more precious or Iʼm better-looking than you—”

“Hey.”

“—but none of that means anything to me.” Finished with a glare matching Gladioʼs. “I know protectingʼs your thing but itʼs not…I donʼt know, a Shield-exclusive sentiment or whatever.” He scowled, falling back as he threw his arms up. “Iʼm human, too, Gladio,” he said to him pointedly, frowning darkly. “I got my own reasons to fight, too. And I thought youʼd understand that, of all people.” The last few words were muttered, as if by a boy whoʼd been upset. He couldnʼt believe it. That…that wasnʼt… 

Dammit. It had never been Gladioʼs intention to smother his prince like this but…turns out that was what he had been doing all this time, huh… 

Gladio looked away, shame-faced. So, not so different from those other guys poking their noses on Noctʼs business. And here he thought he was different from them by being some guy Noctis trusted. What kind of a phony did that make him? 

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “Didnʼt mean to make you feel that way.” He scratched his head, tossed a hand to the prince. “I just…thought I was doing a good job. I just wanted to do a good job for you, Noct.” 

Even those words seemed to have lost their sincerity on Noctis when he eyed him suspiciously, in complete silence. Gods damn, had Gladio finally done it? 

“Promise you wonʼt overdo it anymore?” Noctis mumbled. Astrals be praised, Gladio lived another day. 

In his utter relief, he raised both hands in complete agreement. “Your word is law, Highness.” Heʼll think about Noctisʼ words harder later, see how he can work with them. What was important now was to keep his future kingʼs faith in him. For what kind of Shield would he be without it? “But seriously, Noct, in all honesty, I meant no harm.” He pressed a hand on his knee as he explained himself. “I really only wanted to be the best Shield you could ask for. ‘cause thatʼs how much I respect you.” He gestured to him. “As my liege and my friend.”

“Yeah, tell me about it,” Noctis groaned, rolling his eyes. “You’re about as stubborn as a cactuarʼs thorn in the ass.”

Gladio frowned. What, after all that, this is what he gets? “Yeah?” Huh. Well, two can play that game! “Takes one to know one.” When Noctis shot daggers at him with a glare, it only made him smirk triumphantly. He supposed there had to be a reason they both clicked somehow. Also, he always enjoyed poking fun on Noctis. 

“Iʼm going to drive my sword through your liver and scrape that bird off your back.”

“Ha! Not if I pluck every single hair off your head first!”

“Oh, look whoʼs committing treason in this room!”

“You darinʼ me to do it, Prince?”

“Oh yeah, I wanna see you try!” A rhetoric that soon changed when Gladio stretched to reach for his head. “Hey,” Noctis crossed his arms over his face, “Iʼm injured!”

“Sure looks like you could take another!”

“You talk to your prince like that, Shield?”

“Oh, you want me to start pulling the Shield talk at you, Prince?”

“Hey, what kinda Shield threatens his princeʼs life?”

“Coward, you call that a threat?”

“Itʼs annoying!!”

“Oh, Iʼll show you annoying.” Gladio flew up then to his feet and planted a firm hand on one of Noctisʼ shoulders and his fist on his head to rub it, impervious to the prince grabbing his wrist or the door opening. 

“Hey, stop that!” the prince barked. “Ignis, I want a new Shield!!”

“Very well, shall we take it up with the Crystal?” As calmly as ever. “Gladio, may I remind you that neither of you are better yet?”

“Ha!” Noctis waved a finger at him once heʼd released him. “Told you I was injured.”

“Gonna tell me youʼre a weakling now?”

“Depends what thatʼll say about my trainer.” With the smirk on his face and the arms across his chest, it was obvious Noctis knew he had won that quarrel. Damn him. 

Gladio raised a warning finger on him. “You’re gonna get it when we get back in training.”

“Sure, lay it on me!” Noctis shrugged. “I took a bullet and survived, didnʼt I?”

“Hey, enough about that!” Prompto stumbled to Noctisʼ bedside right between him and Gladio, waving a colorful box of chips at his face. “Look what I saw!!”

“Seriously?!” Their dick off so easily forgotten, Noctis grabbed the box to ogle at it. “We used to eat this when we were kids!” Prompto nodded, just as the prince proceeded to tear it open. Well, Gladio knew when he wasnʼt wanted, anymore. Heʼll have his chance to avenge himself some other time. 

“Noct,” Ignis called from the receiving room, but ended his warning with a sigh as he went back to the plastic bags heʼd carried along, bringing out the contents onto the coffee table. 

“Hey, I thought you guys were only picking up results and coffee?” Gladio leaned down to read the test copies Ignis had brought with him. 

“The vending machine is broken so we dropped by the local convenience store,” Ignis explained, sorting items by their kind and height. There were bottles of tea, a carton of milk, chocolates, easy to eat cold snacks, Cup Noodles…

“Of course, thatʼs always a bad idea when Prompto is along,” Ignis finished, handing a cold bottle to Gladio. 

“He really used Noctʼs money?” Gladio inspected the clear bottle and frowned. 

“We used my money, of course.” Ignis straightened up then, carrying three cans of Ebony. He turned to Gladio when he wouldnʼt move, and lifted a brow at him. “What?” he asked, pure and innocent. 

Gladio showed him the label of the bottle. 

Ignis grinned. “Sparkling water is carbonated. I got that from the fridge.” He jabbed his finger at Gladioʼs tummy lightly which caused him to jump. “Careful with your sugar intake, it will be a while until you can hit the gym again.” That was close. That was _daringly_ close. 

So close that Gladio suddenly felt a little warm in his ears, became conscious about his heart beating. Ignis was never really a touchy fellow except for those who had the privilege of being near and dear to him. And the two of them…though they were exes now but…but maybe Ignis…he and Ignis…Ignis—

“Ignis!”

Ignis turned back just as Gladio had caught him by his elbow. “Gladio?” he asked. Truth be told, he still wasnʼt sure about the words he was going to use. Or why heʼd called him if that was going to be the case, anyway, _but_. He knew he was certain about one thing. 

And that he had to take a stand for it before his courage lost him again. “I, Iʼm going to try again,” Gladio sputtered without preamble. “I want to try _us_ again.” He cleared his throat, shifting on his feet. “And I want to fight for us this time. No more hiding,” brave words, “no more…no more excuses. Iʼm going to talk to Jessie.” He spoke faster than his thoughts could stop him. If there was anything he knew now, it was that he really was his own worst enemy. “Youʼre right, she needs her own peace of mind and I canʼt just keep hogging it because I donʼt have one. But…could I ask you a favor?”

“What is it?” He thought Ignis was looking at him with rapt attention. 

“Thereʼs this guy Ignis Scientia whoʼs really important to me.” Gladio reminded himself to breathe, slow down. Ignis wasnʼt going to run away any time now. “If you see him, could you tell him to wait just a little longer?” He tossed a thumb back over his shoulder. “Iʼm gonna go look for this Gladiolus guy, see if I canʼt beat some sense in him.” Surely Ignis would recognize his choice of words. 

And when he smiled, Gladio knew heʼd hit the right notes. Relief filled his chest. “Very well,” he replied. “Iʼll see what I can do.”

Gladio grinned. 

“But Gladio.” This time, it was Ignis who spoke hastily, as if while he could still catch him before he did anything stupid again. “I, if youʼre not ready…you know what happened when—”

“Noct and I were chatting while you and Prompto were out,” Gladio interrupted him before he could give voice to his fears. _Both_ their fears. “And you know what? Heʼs still a piece of shit but I realized that he was right: I gotta stop overdoing it. This,” he shook his head, “this whole thing about me. My duty, my legacy…” He didnʼt know how to do that when it had been drilled into him since birth, but he had to start somewhere. 

“Are you sure?” Ignis frowned. He remembered suddenly that last date they had. Back then, he felt so uncertain about himself, about where he would be the next day. “You canʼt do this to us again, you have to be absolutely sure.” Not now, though. 

Now Gladio smiled, full of confidence. “Iʼm sure. Iʼm sure I gotta follow my princeʼs orders, this time. If I want to get things right.” For him and Noct. For him and Ignis. For him and his familyʼs legacy. “He told me no overdoing things. And I am his servant so I gotta obey.” Maybe that was the way to do it: duty for duty. 

A language he knew Ignis would understand completely. Still, he seemed surprised when he heard it, and laughed suddenly. Gladio felt like the skies were opening up for him and the High Messengers were singing while Ignis covered his cheer with his hand. His first triumph in a while. He wanted to hold onto that. 

“All right, then,” Ignis said, nodding with that bemused smile on his face. “If thatʼs what you say.” Full of faith in him, as he always said he was. 

“You know it.” Gladio gestured to him with the bottle. He felt good about this. 

“Hey, Gladio, Ignis,” Noctis called from the other room, “arenʼt you guys going to join us?”

“Weʼll be along,” Ignis answered for them, sharing one last smile with Gladio before he stepped through the main room. 

Left alone, then, Gladio scratched his head. Talk about starting a new life. Less duty, more…duty? Less of the old duty, and more about this new one from his prince. He didnʼt know what sort of life this would bring him, but he never said no to a challenge. This could be fun. 

He followed after Ignis, then, zipping between Noctis and Prompto to grab a handful of chips from their childhood favorite. His prince didnʼt like that. Looks like heʼs off to a good start.

**Author's Note:**

> fun fact: i couldn't decide on an official title for this fic until like, yesterday so for the longest time, this was just called 'worst boi' on my gdocs. but gladio is mvp 👍🏼
> 
> stay safe and stay healthy! ❤️❤️❤️


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